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In the MND of the 
CHERRY ^BLOSSOM 

■ MAUDE VHITMORE MDDEN ■ 




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Class 
Book. 



Gopyri^ht}^^. 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSm 






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In the Land of the Cherry Blossom 




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In the Land of the 
Cherry Blossom 



By 
MAUDE WHITMORE MADDEN 

Missionary of the Foreign Christian Missionary Society 
Author of "Golden Chopsticks," "S. Sendai Sou- 
venir" and "The Silver Anniversary of the 
Churches of Christ Mission in Japan " 



ILLUSTRATED 




The Foreign Christian Missionary Society 
Cincinnati 

Fleming H. Revell Company 
Publishers 



Copyright, 19 15, by 
FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY 






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JUL 3 1915 

©GI,A406566 



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To 

the memory of loving parents who 

gave me to the mission fields 

To 

A. McLean^ Benj. L, Smithy Mrs. 
E. E. Thomson, My Husband, and 

To 

Christian Endeavourers everywhere 

who all helped make this little book 

m,aterialize 



A Message 

Go, LITTLE book, with this message, straight 
as an arrow from my heart to the reader's 
hearts. Tell them God's love is for All 
the World. Tell them there are millions yet in 
Japan who do not know God, though they worship 
eight million gods — and more. Tell them the 
beautiful geisha have never heard of God, the 
Father who cares. The factory slaves ; the bur^ 
dened cart pullers ; the human horses ; the brawny 
peasants ; these have not yet heard. The wealthy 
merchants ; the thousands of students ; the great 
men of the nation — a few of these have heard, — 
but most of these have not heeded. And of the 
women in the homes — what shall it profit the 
Oriental woman, though she hear a thousand times, 
if her husband is not converted, nor giveth his con- 
sent ? 

"He prayeth best who loveth best 
All creatures great and small, 
For the dear Lord who loveth us — 
JB[e made and loveth alV^ 



Contents 





PART ONE 








Snap Shots 






I. 


The Tenno Temple in Osaka . 




15 


II. 


Four Japanese Holidays . 




23 


III. 


Japanese Homes 




32 


IV. 


Who Is TopsY-TuRVY ? 




48 


V. 


The Finding of Kiku — the Geisha 


53 


VI. 


The Feast for the Dead 




58 


VII. 


The Shrine of the Goddess 


OF 






Mercy 




62 


VIII. 


While the Incense Burned 




69 


IX. 


The Bear Dance 




. 77 


X. 


AsAMA, a Japanese Volcano . 




. 83 



PART TWO 

Life Sketches 

XI. YojiRO, OR the Old and the New 

Life 

XII. The Old Man and His Idol . 

XIII. Shizu, or Leaving Her Loom 

XIV. The Unfinished Story 

9 



95 
118 
121 
130 



JO 


CONTENTS 




XV. 


From Prison to Pulpit . . 


144 


XVI. 


Teru-Ko, or From Farm to Fac- 






tory 


149 


XVII. 


The Lad From Little Lake . 


164 


XVIII. 


Grandma Kuroda's Adventure at 






the Fox Shrine .... 


171 


XIX. 


One Woman's Work 


177 


XX. 


A Modern Cornelius 


186 



Illustrations 



The Kizukawa Kindergarten 

Boys' Parade 

KwANNON, Goddess of Mercy 

A Buddhist Cemetery . 

The Oldest Son of Penri 

Mount Asama 

YojiRO AND His Family . 

** Sacred Heirlooms " . 

MiTSU AND MaSA . 

Pastor Suto and His Family 

Teru's Village 

" Children's Day " 

" The Bible Woman " . 

Grace Madden and Emi Sawaki 



Facing page 
Title 



30 
62 



74 

82 

92^ 

114 

134 
142 
148 

158 
162 
178 
188 



/ 



11 



Brief Rules for Pronunciation of Japanese 

The vowels are sounded as in Spanish and Italian, 
but are always short, unless marked with the sign of 
long quantity. It is impossible to express the values 
of the Japanese vowels correctly in English ; but 
speaking approximately, we may say 

a resembles the a in ''father." 

e resembles the a in "same." 

i resembles the i in " machine." 

o resembles the o in " ore." 

u resembles the oo in "school." 
ai resembles the y in " my." 
ei resembles the ay in " may." 
au resembles the ow in " cow." 

The consonants are all sounded as in English ; g, 
however, has only the hard sound as in give, although 
the nasal ng is often heard ; ch and s are always soft 
as in "check" and "sin" ; and z before u has the 
sound of dz. In the case of double consonants each 
one must be given its full sound. 



PART ONE 
Snap Shots 



The Tenno Temple in Osaka 

MAECH 21 was a memorable day with us 
in Osaka. It was high day at the Tenno 
Temple festival. The festival lasts a 
week. Two missionaries from China were with 
me. After lunch we three, Ted and our Bible 
woman, started to visit the temple to see the 
Buddhists at their most earnest worship. We had 
about three hundred Christian tracts. This temple's 
ground covers about four city squares and has four 
gates. Within its high walls are numerous build- 
ings of several Buddhist and a few Shinto sects. 
So that one thinks with Paul at Athens, " Ye are 
too religious ! " About three blocks from the south 
gate we got into the throng of returning worship- 
pers and sightseers. We began to give out our 
tracts. The crowd separated us and in about five 
minutes all the tracts were gone and we wished for 
a thousand more. It was pitiful how eagerly they 
crowded round, holding out pleading hands and 
begging for more, until I cried, " Oh ! if you were 
only as hungry for the Living God as for these 
papers." I thought I knew something of the dear 
Lord's heart, when He said, " Pray the Lord of the 
Harvest for reapers ; " " They are as sheep without 

16 



16 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

a shepherd," and " The fields are white." Such ex- 
periences make a woman wish she was a man with 
a megaphone voice and make a missionary wish 
life was longer. 

We got together at the south gate and passed 
through unharmed by the fierce Emma-0 guardian 
gods, decorated with spitballs ; we passed the great 
portico, where, before suicide became a crime, less 
than a generation ago, people threw themselves 
in sacrifice under the wheels of the "god-car." 
Inside, near the gate, was a man with a monkey 
and opposite him a sort of Japanized Punch and 
Judy show, while vendors of peanuts, cakes, fruit, 
toy balloons and other such things were every- 
where. The tall pagoda, an Osaka landmark, was 
next. At each of the four open doors was the cof- 
fer. Most of the devotees tossed in a scant handful 
of rice or a few coppers (rice is very high this 
year, just double the price during the war with 
Russia). This five-storied pagoda, " they say," is a 
thousand years old. It is five hundred feet high 
and from its top veranda a fine bird's-eye view of 
the great city can be had on a clear day. The old 
priests charge one and one-half cents admission. 
The narrow stairs zigzag up one side and down the 
other of the central pillar, whose lower half is one 
immense tree trunk. Gilded images of Buddha 
greet climbers at each landing and the devout 
climbers, with shortened breath, must murmur the 
never ending " l^amu Amida Butsu " at each one. 
The upper veranda is now screened with coarse 



THE TENNO TEMPLE IN OSAKA J7 

wire netting, this, too, because suicide from this 
height was considered virtuous. All along the 
walls, inside and out, on the pillars and under the 
eaves, are the written or carved names of the thou- 
sands whose feet have worn these stairs as smooth 
as polished glass. Oh ! such a crowd as there was 
to-day. Looking down on the throng below, we 
thought there must be nearly twenty thousand of 
those who worship they know not what, and this 
was only one day of the week ! From the top we 
had a glimpse of the harbour, southwest, of the 
greening farm lands, backed by the not far distant 
mountains to the southeast ; and to the west and 
north, this great city of nearly two million souls. 
The never lifted black cloud of smoke from a 
thousand chimneys entirely hid our view of the 
main city. 

This is no time for poetry, but George MacDon- 
ald's lines haunt us here : 

" I said, 'Let me walk in the fields.' 

He said, 'No, walk in the town.' 
I said, ' There are no flowers there. ' 

He said, ' No flowers, but a crown.' 
I said, ' But the skies are black ; 

There is nothing but noise and din.' 
And He wept, as He sent me back ; 

' There is more,' He said, ' there is sin.' " 

From the pagoda, which is only a memorial 
monument to the temple's founder, though it con- 
tains many idols, we passed to the main temple, 



J8 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

containing a hundred or more gilded images, before 
which men and women were offering their hard 
earned rice, counting the beads of their bracelets 
(rosaries) and saying their endless prayers, bub there 
was no joy in their faces. 

Next we passed a temple whose white plastered 
walls are covered with red hand impressions. I 
have asked several Japanese the meaning of these 
hand prints, but have heard only one explanation, 
and it was given as a suggestion only. The women 
who pray for children leave the red print of an 
uplifted hand on the wall ; if the prayer is granted 
they return and leave a downward pointing hand. 
There were twenty uplifted hands to one down- 
ward pointing one. It is the cry of the ancient 
Hebrew women. Perhaps, naturally, close by this 
is the temple to the babies who have died. I can- 
not go to this or write about it any more. It is too 
sad. And the saddest thing is the ignorance of the 
worshippers. The temple is like a tower and in it 
is a sweet, sad-toned bell. The bell-rope is com- 
pletely covered with bibs of babies who have died. 
There are, I believe it is safe to say, a thousand 
kimonos (robes) of other babies, and toys, images 
and photographs of hundreds of others. An old 
priest, in yellow brocade robes, rings the bell, 
lights candles, burns incense and mumbles prayers 
for the souls of the little ones, for a generous com- 
pensation, and the fearful and bereaved mothers, 
fathers, grandparents, brothers and sisters of the 
little ones bravely try to keep back their tears 



THE TENNO TEMPLE IN OSAKA J9 

during the service, for until the priest tells them 
the prayers are heard, the dear little ones are in- 
dustriously piUng up stones for prayers, the while 
being tormented by demons, unless Jizo hears the 
prayers and saves them. This explanation I had 
from a hnowing one, but you can stand close by 
and ask a dozen worshippers why those offerings, 
why those prayers, and they will answer, " Why — 
why, I don't know why, only it is the way." Once 
I said to a man, " Wouldn't it be better to give 
those gowns to orphan children, rather than let 
them rot there ? " He and some others who heard 
the question said, " Indeed," " I want to know," 
" Well, well ! " Such a thought had never occurred 
to any of them. 

A few steps from here is the mud hole, I pre- 
sume I should say pond, wherein multitudes of 
mud turtles find a sacred home ! Some old men 
near the east gate have a lot of these fellows which 
you can buy for a few pennies and make them 
happy by tossing them back into the pond. (It's 
my belief that the old men fish the turtles out at 
night and sell them over again every day, but, of 
course, such a thought is rank blasphemy.) 

A beautiful stone bridge crosses this pond and, 
to-day, in its midst, under a canopy, a lot of priests, 
in gorgeous robes, were writing names of the dead 
on foot-long coffin-shaped shavings and giving them 
to the " faithful " for a few pennies and with a 
few prayers thrown in. (I wish I had a better 
word to use than "prayers," for the continual 



20 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

mumbling of " namu amida butsu," while their 
crafty eyes feast on the people, by these priests, 
wise as serpents, cannot truly be " prayers." They 
are the " vain repetitions of the heathen.") As the 
people receive these tablets from the priests they 
take them to the turtle temple, where in a stone 
tank is a great bronze turtle with a tiny stream of 
" holy " water issuing from its mouth. The water 
flows into a turtle-shaped shallow bronze basin and 
out under the floor somewhere. Above and at the 
ends of this tank are seats for priests, idols, incense, 
tables, candles, etc. The people throng here with 
their tablets which the priests take in long handled 
dippers and put under the stream from the turtle's 
mouth. They say when the water carries the 
tablets away the prayers are answered and the 
souls in purgatory are freed. The air was heavy 
with incense to-day. The throng was so great it 
was difficult to get near, but when we did there 
must Have been three bushels, at least, of thin 
shaving tablets heaped up in the basin under the 
turtle god's mouth. Only a few had floated away. 
But oh ! the distressed faces of those who stood 
by watching, waiting, hoping to have the joy of 
seeing their beloved's tablets carried away. Some 
women were so distressed they crowded up and 
looked in, then walked away only to return again 
and again. And I saw one woman actually take a 
dipper from a priest's hand and drink the filthy 
water and sprinkle some on her silk kimono. How 
many others did the same I do not know. But 



THE TENNO TEMPLE IN OSAKA 2J 

there were no happy faces here either. How I 
longed to comfort them and did speak a few words 
to one most distressed. 

We saw the great bell (two and one-half cents a 
look). It is said to be the largest bell in the world, 
four times a man's height, and made from the free 
will offerings of rich metal treasures, to com- 
memorate the temple's one thousandth anniversary 
in 1905. It is literally covered with the names of 
the givers. 

We saw the museum, wherein are many curios 
and historical relics and idols, but the rich treasures 
of the temple are not kept in sight. We came out 
through the west gate, where the noise of the con- 
stantly turned iron prayer wheels grated harshly 
on our ears. We peeped into the mother's temple, 
where mothers and fathers pray for babies and for 
natural nourishment for them to an ugl}'- stone 
image called Hotel. The priest assured us if we 
bought one of his painted wooden slabs for four 
and one-half cents our prayer would be granted, 
then we could return the slab as a thank offering, 
a la the thousand or more there. The altar here 
was decorated with foot-long Japanese white rad- 
ishes and seaweed, besides the usual rice cakes, 
candles and incense. Oh, dear ! aren't you tired of 
it all ? I am, though there are several more 
temples within this compound yet to be visited 
and throngs of " stands " along the streets leading 
to the temples' gates, where many useful or curious 
things are sold. And here, too, are several old 



22 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

women sitting, to change silver and nickel coins 
into the bronze rin with a hole in it, worth about 
one-tenth of a cent, which is the usual temple of- 
fering. 

Two modern electric car lines meet near the west 
gate of the Tenno Temple. About five minutes' 
walk along one of the car lines brings us to our 
neat little Christian church. "We are to have a 
social here to-night, a union of the church and the 
Kizukawa mission. Five people (three women and 
two men) from this mission were baptized last night 
and this social is a welcome to them. Thirty-five 
happy-faced people sat on the soft matted floor of 
the parsonage, attached to the chapel, and after 
prayer. Scripture reading and hymn singing, had a 
joyful time over their cakes and tea and playing 
games of various kinds. The two visitors from 
China said, " Oh ! what a contrast is this to the 
temple throngs. How happy these people are ! " 
And if was so. But how few they are compared 
to the many hopeless, joyless ones. Oh ! how much 
yet remains to be done for Japan, for Osaka, its 
second largest and most self-righteous city. But 
we are so thankful our Father has given us even 
this many to encourage and inspire us. It is His 
stamp of approval. And they know better than 
we from what awful bondage they are now made 
free. Pray for them and for us. 



n 

Four Japanese Holidays 

THE children of Japan have many holidays, 
but four especial ones during the year. 
To the Christians the addition of Christ- 
mas makes five — but then Christmas is for all the 
world. 

The first Japanese holiday, of course, is New 
Year's. It lasts until about the fifteenth of the 
month, and is greatly enjoyed by all — from the 
wise Mikado on the throne down to the poorest 
jinrikisha man's baby. 

The gates and houses are all decorated for the 
occasion. But I must tell you about these gates, or 
you will be thinking of the tiny affairs sometimes 
seen in America which are hardly big enough to 
decorate. The homes in Japan don't have beauti- 
ful lawns from the house to the street ; instead each 
house or group of about five houses is surrounded 
by a great high wall or hedge. From the street all 
you can see are the roofs or the tops of the taller trees. 

This compound (we call it) is entered by one big 
front gate, with tall gate-posts on each side and 
usually a massive roof over the whole thing. It is 
said a Japanese house owner's greatest pride is his 
gate. For every-day use there is a little postern in 

23 



24 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

the big gate, or at its side — and for quick escape in 
case of earthquake and fire there is a little back gate 
somewhere also — a sort of emergency gate. 

Sometimes, when the great gate is open, we catch 
a glimpse of gravelled walks, and, if the house hap- 
pens to be open, of the beautiful garden at the rear. 

At l^ew Year's the great gate is beautifully dec- 
orated with pine, bamboo, ferns, rice straw ropes, 
oranges, sometimes a big red lobster, and, of course, 
the gay Japanese flag with its bright red sun add- 
ing colour to these various greens. 

In Tokyo, where I spent two lN"ew Years, the 
weather was perfect like Indian Summer in the 
E'orthern States — and in ISTorth Japan where I 
lived many years the sun always seemed brightest 
at 'New Year's. The plum trees, camellias and 
blood red peach trees were all abloom. 

All the decorations have a deep meaning to the 
Japanese ; the pine trees planted temporarily there 
assure .long life, strength; the bamboo, virtue, 
grace; the fern, faithfulness and so on — blessings 
desired for the whole family during the coming 
year. 

Inside, the Japanese house has been cleaned from 
" garret to cellar " — 1 almost said — but since Jap- 
anese houses have neither of these commodities 
perhaps we had better say it has been made per- 
fectly "shipshape." The toko-no-ma (raised al- 
cove) in the parlour receives a new kake-mono 
(banner painting). It may be a crane in pine 
branches, a pine, plum and bamboo design — or only 



FOUR JAPANESE HOLIDAYS 25 

the beautiful Chinese hieroglyphics expressing a 
New Year's thought. There are also pots of 
dwarfed plum trees, all abloom, oh, so fragrant, 
bouquets of narcissus or Chinese lilies, cherry buds, 
and bright red nanten berries. 

Everybody has a new suit of clothes and eats 
the especially prepared Kew Year's feast of rice 
dumplings called Tnochi. 

The older people make and receive calls, the 
mothers remaining at home to receive the first 
three days. The children have a gay time in the 
streets from morning till night. This is kite-flying 
season for the boys, and battledore and shuttle- 
cock season for the girls. And if you don't watch 
out you'll miss your shuttlecock and get your face 
blacked ! At night everybody plays poem cards. 
This is a game something like " Authors," only its 
way of playing is much jollier. Most everybody 
drinks wine — and many drink stronger stuff until 
their eyes are red and they fall asleep in drunken 
stupor — both men and women — and even — once in 
a while — a little child. 

This is the great time of the year to exchange 
gifts — like we do at Christmas ; and it is every- 
body's birthday, too! The Japanese count their 
birthdays from Kew Year's, not by actual months. 
So no wonder everybody has a jolly good time at 
New Year's. 

The next holiday is in March. "The third of 
the third month" they say — but actually it lasts 
about a week or ten days. It is called Hina-no- 



26 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

Matsuri — dolls' festival. This is for girls only, 
but the boys look on. For this festival five steps 
are built in the toko-no-ma and covered with bright 
red cloth, silk brocade — or in poorer homes a red 
blanket from the bed. Two dolls, richly dressed, 
representing the Emperor and Empress, are placed 
on the top step. Below them, in proper order, on 
the other steps other dolls are arranged representing 
the court ladies, musicians and famous women. On 
the next steps below these are all kinds of people — 
with all kinds of doll furniture, dishes, and foods. 
There are pink, green and white candies; deco- 
rations of flowers — the especial flower for this 
festival is the blood red peach blossom ; there are 
tiny candles to make the place gay at night. This 
is a very old festival. Some of the dolls have been 
handed down from generation to generation — from 
great-great-great-grandmother to the little girl of 
to-day. Of course the little girls do not play with 
these old, old dolls; these are kept safely stored 
away in the family treasure house all the year 
except this very time. At this time even the 
every-day dolls are not played with. They seem 
to feel the solemnity of association with Doll 
Koyalty — and stay demurely in their places — to 
be admired with the rest. All the friends of the 
family are invited to see the show, especially all 
the little girl friends, and, unless the family is 
Christian, are entertained with sweet white wine, 
tea and cakes, while the little girls play bean bags 
and eat popped rice. The purpose of this festival 



FOUR JAPANESE HOLIDAYS 27 

is to teach history and obedience to the Emperor 
and to all those in authority over the little girls of 
the family — as well as to give them a good time. 
The decorations in the shops for this festival and 
for the boys' festival which follows it are too 
wonderful and beautiful to describe. As far as I 
know these two festivals are found nowhere else in 
the world. 

When the boys' festival comes in May — you just 
ought to see the cities and villages then ! I guess 
you'd open your eyes wide ! Great tall bamboos, 
nearly as tall as telegraph poles, are set up at every 
house where there is a boy, and from every pole a 
great paper, cloth or silk painted fish flies in the 
air. Sometimes a whole string of four, five or six 
are flying from one pole — one fish for each boy in 
the house. Sometimes one fish and great streamers 
of bright red, blue, purple, yellow and green cloth 
crowned by the Japanese flag fly from one pole, 
or sometimes the crown is a wind- wheel or a gay 
lantern. The fishes' mouths are held open by a 
bamboo or wire ring. Through this aperture the 
wind fills the hollow body of the fish and its 
motions in the air are exactly like those of its 
living counterparts in the water. Why did they 
choose fish for the boys ? In every land isn't there 
a special afiinity between fish and boys ? They 
say this particular fish, the carp, swims up-stream 
against the current and over the waterfalls — so will 
the boys who fly these fishes make their way up in 
the world, surmounting all difficulties. 



28 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

In the toko-no-ma the proper kake-mono is one 
of the carp climbing a waterfall. The flowers for 
this festival are sweet flags — because its leaves are 
like sword blades, and its bulbs, if eaten, are a 
charm against drowning. 

As in the girls' festival the parlour alcove was 
filled with wonderful old dolls, so now for the boys 
the alcove is full of toy or statuesque rearing war- 
horses, whose mounts are famous heroes of old and 
new Japan. Isn't this a delightful way to teach 
history, patriotism and courage ? Here is Kintaro, 
the red mountain boy who fought with wild animals, 
who rode bears and deer for horses, and who was so 
strong he pulled a tree up by the roots to make a 
bridge across a river. Here is Benkei, the famous 
warrior who always carried eight weapons, and 
who searched a long time before he found a prince 
who could conquer him. This prince was Yoshit- 
sune, who had been taught fencing and shooting by 
the long-nosed mountain men called Tengu. Here 
is the Kaiko, Hideyoshi the Taiko, and of course 
Momo-taro, the boy who was born from a peach — 
and who at the age of fifteen subdued the demons 
on the northern island and brought all their 
treasure home to his foster parents. Oh, such 
heroes, such stories, such games in imitation of 
these and of other famous men, as Togo and Nogi, 
— no wonder the Japanese conquered China and 
Russia — no wonder the fish fly on the fifth day of 
the fifth month — and for days before and after ! 
No wonder the present Crown Prince was born 



FOUR JAPANESE HOLIDAYS 29 

just in time for this feast — and named on its high 
day ! 

Kext come the religious festivals. The Bon 
(pronounced bone) Matsuri is held the middle of 
July in most places, but sometimes is as late as the 
middle of August. This perhaps is the greatest 
religious festival. The streets and homes are all 
decorated with beautiful creamy white or soft-tinted, 
gauzy paper lanterns. If lamps are used they also 
are shaded with these soft tints. All the idols are 
set out ; the idol closets or shrines which may have 
been closed are now open. Food, wine, flowers, 
incense and candles are set before them. The 
house, of course, is as clean as a new pin. Every 
one waits for the absent to return — and for the visit 
of the spirits of those who have died. Peace and 
quiet is the order of the day. As at Kew Year's, 
presents are exchanged, and every one has a new 
kimono and girdle. The flowers for this feast are 
purple, yellow and white wild flowers, especially a 
certain kind of bluebell called kikyo, yellow 
valerian (karukaya) and white patrinia (ominaeshi). 
In the cities, at this time, but whether a part of 
this especial festival or not I forgot to ask, are 
great processions of floats, each carrying an im- 
mense image ; cart and image ornamented with 
gaudy paper flowers and tinsel ; these are drawn 
through the streets by fifty men or more to the 
cart. The men wear queer mushroom hats as large 
as a child's parasol, trimmed in red flowers. They 
are accompanied by weird musicians, and dancers 



30 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

with false faces and a crowd of shouting men and 
boys. All the temples are open and thronged with 
worshippers. New temples and shrines are im- 
provised and the old folks become unusually devout 
— as if to make up for the lack of worship since 
the last festival. In the evenings the children 
make up processions of their own. Instead of 
the float of the morning, a great paper lantern, as 
big as a bushel or a barrel, with lighted candles 
inside, or a gaily festooned empty wine cask 
suffices. The older boys carry these on long poles 
for shafts ; other boys carrying paper lanterns run 
alongside shouting — as only boys can shout. Every- 
body is out in the streets enjoying it all. Stalls of 
sweetmeats, flowers, hair ornaments, toys and so 
on line the streets so it is utterly impossible to get 
along, except to move with the crowd. This festi- 
val, also, lasts several days. Then, as if by magic, 
all is over— not a trace of the show and the wild rev- 
elry remains — except as we pass a " rag " shop we see 
the crumpled, torn paper flowers and lanterns — so 
gay yesterday, so utterly useless to-day. May they 
be the symbol of the religion for which they were 
used. 

SONG FOR THE DOLLS' FESTIVAL 

Oh, happy to-day 

For the dolls put away 

In the storehouse all the year 

In gorgeous array 

Make brilliant display 

And feast in our parlour here. 



FOUR JAPANESE HOLIDAYS 3J 

The red peach bloom 

Scents all the room. 

And the mochi feast is done — 

Our girl friends all 

To-day will call, 

Oh, isn't it lots of fun ! 



SONG FOE THE FISH FESTIVAL 

See the big black mother carp 
With her babies red 
Climbing up the waterfall 
Mother goes ahead. 
Upward climbing to the sky 
Like the ocean blue, — 
Teaching us to bravely try 
Each hard task to do. 



in 

Japanese Homes 

TO TELL hrief/y about the homes of the 
Japanese people is a very great task — 
because there are so many different kinds 
of them. In a kingdom or an empire the people 
and their homes are divided into many different 
classes. They are not so free to live as they please 
as in a republic. I mean a man born a farmer 
never aspires to become Emperor ; that would be 
impossible, so he is usually content on his farm. 
This is true of most Japanese. They are born into 
a class and usually stay there though there is an 
occasional exception. 

There are Japanese millionaires — a few of them 
— with their American style homes, luxuriantly 
furnished with the beautiful things all millionaires 
have. The Japanese millionaire also has his Japa- 
nese houses in which he and the older members of 
his family and his familiar friends can be as Japa- 
nesy as they please. They can enjoy their own 
beautiful walled-in parks and gardens which are 
the beauty wonder of the world. They can bring 
rich treasures of art from their great storehouses 
— treasures hundreds of years old. They sleep on 
silken bedding and eat from dishes of silver, gold 
and the daintiest of porcelain. Once in a while a 

32 



JAPANESE HOMES 33 

missionary is invited to a tea party in such a home 
during the season of the garden's greatest beauty. 
How great is his pleasure when such an invitation 
is from a Christian home, and how very, very sad 
when he realizes that his delightful host and hostess 
have everything either East or "West can give ex- 
cept the one thing most needful — the Christ, and 
Him they do not wish. The Christian homes are 
comparatively very few among this class of people. 
And the surprise is the greater because usually the 
head of the rich family was educated in America 
or England — where he should heme hecome a Chris- 
tian. One such man lived seven years in America, 
and said, " Not one person spoke to me jpersonally 
about becoming a Christian — no one seemed to care^ 
though I went frequently to one church or another." 
There are the palaces of the imperial family. 
Even the three young princes have separate 
homes. Their home life is so different from any 
boy's life in America, I think you would hardly 
wish to exchange places with them. The Crown 
Prince Michi, though yet a boy, is already an of- 
ficer in both army and navy. These little men are 
very bright and clever, and doubtless enjoy their 
lives in the way proper for princes, but they do not 
have the every-day familiar friendship of their 
father and mother. "Whenever they walk out or 
play there must always be servants or soldiers or 
guards to watch over and protect them. For 
princes there is no skipping off to swim with a 
bunch of boys in a summer puddle, no begging a 



34 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

nickel for the moving picture show, — lessons, ex- 
ercise, fencing, horseback riding, play, meals — 
everything in the companionship of nurses, guards 
and teachers ! 

But the palaces of the Emperor are beautiful. 
The real palace is very plain and built in pure 
Japanese fashion of unpainted, but soft gray sweet- 
scented wood. Inside its plain rooms are decorated 
in the building itself and not, as in so many Western 
palaces, by fussy furniture things. It would take 
too long to describe it — but the chief decoration is 
flowers — fresh, beautifully arranged flowers. There 
are other palaces in European style. And the pres- 
ent Emperor and Empress ride together in the same 
" auto " or carriage, though the former ones rode 
separately, each with a separate train of guards and 
friends. 

The boys of the middle class people, that is, 
the merchants, shopkeepers, lawyers, bank clerks, 
school-teachers (who are mostly men) and so on, 
have much more freedom than princes. 

These " free " boys are off to school early in the 
morning. Although school begins at nine o'clock 
winters and eight o'clock summers, these boys 
mostly get on the grounds by seven o'clock or 
earlier — so they can have time to enjoy the big 
playground before school time. In all the school 
playgrounds are all sorts of things, tether poles, 
swinging logs, horizontal ladders, turning poles. 
I can't begin to tell you all of them — there are 
footballs, baseballs, tennis also, in some schools — so 



JAPANESE HOMES 35 

why shouldn't a boy get there as soon as he swal- 
lows his breakfast ? The fact that he is expected 
to have lessons a few hours later, to pay for his 
fun, is not worth considering. It's like the boy 
who was whipped for going fishing in his new 
trousers ; he said, " What's five minutes' licking to 
five hours' fun — I'd had the fun ! " (If he'd only 
changed before he went !) There are no truant 
officers in Japan. 

Another thing I've discovered in Japan — there is 
no place for the children to play at home / True, 
lots of homes have beautiful yards — but, oh, dear, 
they were never made for children to romp in. 
Yery quiet little children may squat by the pond 
and feed the carp or goldfish therein — but they 
must be very quiet and not disturb the fish — and if 
the house cat is sleepily stretched out on a stone, 
also watching the fish, no good little Japanese child 
would even whisper to disturb pussy. The Httle 
mounds, and the clumps of bushes, and the crooked 
old pine trees are not put in a Japanese garden for 
the children to play hide-and-seek among, or pussy 
wants the corner — or any such thing — they were 
put there to inspire the young ladies and gentle- 
men to write poetry and the old ladies and gentle- 
men to " meditate upon the beauties of nature and 
the transitoriness of life." If the children must 
romp — out they go into the street — the narrow 
street, all full of carts and people, and electric cars 
and things. They like the street. 

There is no place in a Japanese home for the 



36 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

children to jplwy. Wo child has a room for himself, 
not even a sleeping room. There is no nursery — 
no play room. No wonder school " keeps " six 
days in a week, and eleven months in the year, 
and parents petition the authorities to do away 
with the " long vacation of August." When the 
missionary man went to beg for vacation in July 
also, for the little ones, the sun was so hot for 
them, the superintendent said, " You are the ji/rst 
person, in my ten yea/rs' exj>erienGe, who has asked 
such a thing, and I've had over two hundred ask 
for school in August also — because — they — didn't 
— want the children at home ! " 

What do the children do when it rains and 
snows? They play out in the streets under 
umbrellas — or on temple porches, or wherever 
they can get shelter— if the storm is hard. Even 
the babies are out in the storm, on some one's back. 
When they must go home, picture books and quiet 
toys, scissors and colored paper can usually be 
found in the family living-room. Amusing the 
baby is the best game of all to most of them. For 
there almost always is a baby in every Japanese 
home, and all love to play with it. 

The homes of this great middle class are pure 
Japanese. Three or four rooms at most, with thick, 
padded straw matting fitted into the floor — a lovely 
floor for babies to roll on — the partitions of the 
rooms are paper panels, on wooden frames, which 
slide in grooves between the mats, and above in 
" dropped " beams. These panels can be removed 



JAPANESE HOMES 37 

at pleasure, making the whole house just one room 
if needed for meetings, etc. 

The Japanese are a nation of early risers. In- 
deed it is wonderful how little sleep any of them — 
even the babies — seem to require. (A regular day- 
time nap for a little one is a wonder. If he wants 
to sleep, all right — if not, no one cares.) They en- 
joy the early morning. Most of them wash outside 
the house, out by the well, in clear cold water — 
winter and summer alike. They are faithful to the 
tooth-brush — then, still outside the house, adjust 
their loose comfortable kimono with its broad belt 
— or the men clerks and schoolboys belt up their 
tight foreign trousers, then they go in and squat 
down on the soft mats before the low table, for 
breakfast. Breakfasts, and for that matter most 
all the ordinary meals, consist of watery soup with 
a bit of fish, or an egg^ or a few tiny oysters, still 
in their shells, a piece of broiled fish, a raw egg, 
plum or radish pickles, Irish potatoes or beans, and 
the staff of life, hoiled rice — followed by a drink of 
hot water or tea, minus sugar ajnd milk. 

Even the children drink as much clear tea as they 
wish, and babies eat pickles with the others. Then 
father goes off to his work, the children race to 
school, mother picks up the heavy comforts which 
have been their beds on the floor, the whole 
family sleeping in one room — if the room is large 
enough. If the sleeping room must also serve as 
the dining-room, the bedding is bundled into a 
closet before breakfast, and later folded neatly or 



38 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

put out to sun and air. Then tke baby has its bath 
and either plays by itself on the floor, or is tied on 
mother's back. Perhaps mother dusts the room 
and sweeps up, next. She always dusts first. 
While she is busy at this the " butcher, baker and 
candlestick maker " — or rather, in Japan, the fish 
man, bean man, vegetable man and all sorts of men 
and women with all sorts of good things to eat 
have been coming nearer and nearer. She hears 
their cries from afar, and is ready for them. She 
has decided on the day's food supply — and the 
amount of money to be spent for each thing. I 
wish I could give you the street cries of these 
hucksters — but print cannot imitate the Japanese 
tones and the tones are more than the words. For 
instance the old man who rings a bell and should 
shout " To-fu " for his bean curd, sings out " To-o- 
o-e-e-e " in a musical scale all his own — and he is 
only one of many. Instead of stopping at each 
house the huckster runs along to a convenient spot, 
then stops and the women of the neighbourhood 
gather around his push-cart, or his swinging baskets, 
or his five storied boxes— and while they laugh and 
joke and gossip with each other and with him, 
sharp bargaining is going on all the time. The 
huckster who comes down on his prices with the 
biggest grin is the one who gets the trade. He is 
'prepared to " come down " if he knows his business 
— and he usually does — and the neighbourhood 
gossip as well; for when his business takes him 
across the city to the street where " mother's " 



JAPANESE HOMES 39 

people live, he can give them the latest news about 
her family. The regulcur vender in Japan is a per- 
son to be reckoned vrith. He is a man the new 
missionary rarely sees, and never reckons w^ith — 
but that missionary's reputation is more in the 
hands (or mouths) of such people than he imagines. 
He's a good fellow to be on joking terms with. 
After the morning's purchases are made, or any 
time after nine o'clock is the missionary's time to 
call on mother. The earlier the call, the more 
honour paid the hostess, as a model housewife. 
From this (to the missionary mother most incon- 
venient calling time) early hour until one o'clock 
is the Japanese mother's free time. She usually 
spends it sewing. For though Japanese kimonos 
seem simple and easy to make, the Japanese method 
of sewing makes them quite a task after all. 

After two o'clock the little children come rush- 
ing home from school, the older ones come after 
four, and father gets home about the same time. 
All are as hungry as bears. The children take 
lunch to school — usually a ball of boiled rice — it 
looks like a snowball, flavored with benne (or 
sesame) seeds, and a pickle — so just as soon as 
father sHps on a kimono after his bath, all eagerly 
partake of this five o'clock dinner, the main meal 
of the day. It is very like breakfast, with the ad- 
dition of meat and another vegetable if it can be 
afforded. The mother always sits by the table and 
serves the others, then eats her own meal after they 
have finished. Even where there is a servant she 



40 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

often does this. And so many families have one 
or more servants ! Sometimes a dependent female 
relative is glad to do this for a home. No servant 
in an ordinary family serves for wages — but for a 
home, and whatever " bonus " and clothing the 
family may choose to give, and their place is like 
one of the family — to a certain large extent. 

I forgot to say that all these people eat their 
solid food with their two tiny chopsticks both held 
in the right hand. You try holding one pencil as 
you usually do, and another one above it so it will 
wiggle a little — having the bottom ends about two 
inches from your fingers — and see how many hearts 
you can pick up between your pencils (unsharp- 
ened ones are best), and you will know how the 
Japanese eat with chopsticks. When I first went 
to Japan — oh, many, many years ago, — I was 
shocked to see the Christians eating with chop- 
sticks — but I soon laughed at myself for such a 
silly tJiought. Chopsticks are as clean, and more 
rejmed than knives and forks, because one can eat 
noiselessly with them — and Christianity is to change 
their hearts, not any customs that are good. Our 
knives and forks are very queer to them. 

Well, after dinner, if father is busy, the children 
scamper off to the street to play until nine or ten 
o'clock when they come home and tumble into bed 
— if the comforts are ready. Or if they are hungry, 
fruit, cakes and tea are usually at hand. If father 
is not busy after dinner he often takes the whole 
flock for a walk or to the park or to the moving 



JAPANESE HOMES 4J 

picture show. Other evenings while they study 
lessons mother sits by them and sews and sews, for 
father has gone off to have a revel with his cronies, 
and he may not return till midnight or later. 
Liquor served by beautiful geisha flows freely at 
these men's parties, and men forget their homes. 

In winter, when lessons are done, if there is a 
grandma or grandpa in the family, a box half filled 
with sifted ashes is brought in, a charcoal fire 
(which is smokeless) is laid on the ashes, a wooden 
frame put over the box and a comfort put over this 
frame. If I've not forgotten, ]Srovember first is the 
" lucky day " to start this fire in the home. They all 
sit around it with the comfort drawn close up on 
their laps and over their legs and so are warm and 
cozy while Toshi-yori San (the grandparent) tells 
the tales of old Japan — of the time before America 
was discovered to Japan. Mother sews on, with 
long basting stitches, with a loose, coarse thread, 
which she breaks from the skein at the end of the 
seam — and not by the needleful (the wasteful West- 
ern way.) Her thimble is a rough broad brass or 
iron ring, circling her finger almost at the second 
joint, and instead of wriggling the needle through 
the cloth, she wriggles the cloth onto the needle 
until it is full of puckered cloth, then she wriggles 
it off again, 

Sunday is holiday for father and children, so it 
is wash-day for mother — for it is the only day when 
she has the help of the older children. All the 
peddlers come just the same as other days — for 



42 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

only schools, banks, and some offices Tceejp the Sun- 
day law in Japan. Sunday is moving day also — 
guests from other towns, and many from the same 
town always come on Sunday. 

The Japanese people love the outdoors — always 
at all seasons. Bad weather never keeps them 
from any place they plan to go. "With their tall, 
wooden clogs, short kimonos, and big oil-paper um- 
brellas, never a bit do they mind a storm. So, kept 
in school, in office or shop, and at home six days in 
seven — off they all go for a good time on Sunday. 
This is one reason it is so hard to Christianize these 
people. They don't want to give up their one 
day's pleasure even for an hour's worship. And 
right here let me contrast temple worship and 
Christian service. In the former, you know, when 
they go to the temple, they throw their penny 
offering into the money box outside the temple 
door, clap their hands three times, then bow their 
head% on their uplifted hands and murmur, " Namu 
amida butsu " several times — and the thing is done. 
Quite different from Christian worship, isn't it ? — 
and practically all outdoors. Of course there are 
occasional meetings when they go into the temples 
and sit on the matting while the priests go through 
a service, but such services come very seldom and 
usually one person can attend for the whole family. 

Millions of Japanese are Buddhists or Shintoists ; 
most are a mixture of both these religions, or of 
superstitions arising from these religions. This 
means that most of them want to know God, but 



JAPANESE HOMES 43 

don't know how to find. Him. They have lots of 
idols, and wooden blocks with names of dead rela- 
tives on them, called memorial tablets — and great, 
gilded shrines (like beautiful cupboards) in their 
homes. Candles lighted, incense, flowers, food, 
wine and other things are religiously offered every 
morning to these things by the women of the 
household. And in most homes the men-folks bow 
respectfully before this shrine every morning as 
soon as they have washed. Thousands and thou- 
sands also go out on the porch and worship the ris- 
ing sun. " JSTothing can live without the sun, there- 
fore the sun must be the greatest of all the gods. 
Ama-terasu caused Japan to be made — so we wor- 
ship the sun-goddess," they say. As for the temples, 
they are always open. Any one can go any time 
to any temple and worship, but there are " lucky 
days " for each temple. These lucky days come 
twice a month in the great city of Osaka. One of 
the priests at the Tennoji (ji means temple) said, 
" Often there are 20,000 people at this temple some 
' lucky days,' " — lucky for the temple, isn't it ? The 
only blessing these worshippers get is, ^^ I have done 
the only thing I knew to do" 

Then the homes of the poor. There are millions 
who work like horses in other lands, pulling wagons 
with a horse's load on them, loads of iron rails, pig 
iron, lumber, building stone, machinery, cotton, 
great boxes of dry-goods, matches and other 
merchandise — loads often heavy for a horse. The 
men who pull the jinrikishas — the big folks' baby 



44 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

buggies — the men who live by the day's work at 
whatever turns up — yes, and the women too ; for in 
Japan one often sees a woman either helping to pull 
or push a load too heavy for a man alone — and 
once in a while such a woman is seen with a baby on 
her back and a little four-year-old trotting by her 
side, crying because its feet are so tired. One 
great lesson Japan has yet to learn is that poor 
people, day labourers, are People ! She treats 
them as beasts of burden. ISTo wonder they go, if 
they have a chance, to lands where they hear human 
folks have a chance to be human ! What of the 
homes of such people ? Often a mere shack, just a 
lodging place — for the work day of the poor is from 
daylight till dark and often from six in the morn- 
ing till midnight. Some of the homes are one room 
in an apartment house, one room of two or three 
mats (6 X 6 or 6x9 feet). Sometimes there is a 
comfort to spread on the floor for a bed, sometimes 
none: Kioe is not for such as these to eat, barley 
and beans with the cheapest of fish and the vilest 
of liquor — and because the ignorant wife knows 
little of cooking the liquor is used in excess. The 
clothing of these patient ones — I suppose they are 
patient, they have the look of hard worked horses 
in their eyes — is sometimes so patched one can 
hardly guess which was the original piece. Why, 
why, why, I wonder, when they work so hard, 
why must they ha/ve so little compensation ? Oh, 
what a sad, weary life is theirs in which to grow 
old. Sometimes you see a man fifty years old pull- 



JAPANESE HOMES 45 

ing these loads. I saw such a gray-haired man's 
load upset in the mud one day. He never said a 
word, but in a slow, weary, patient manner tried to 
right it. Soon another man came along and helped 
him. In the meantime a school-teacher, several 
normal schoolboys and a gentleman (?) had passed 
him with scarcely a glance at his trouble — the man 
who helped was a cartman like himself. Heathen 
people are kind to their own class only. 

The children from these homes are early ap- 
prenticed to different trades or works, — or they 
begin to pull light loads. One often sees two 
little boys pulling abreast — they look like eight 
years old, but of course they must be eleven, because 
the law says so ! The little girls become nurses for 
more fortunate babies, even quite little girls. Many 
more go to work in the factories, with their life- 
crushing hours — or they are rented or sold into 
service at tea houses (lunch houses) and from these 
places the road leads almost straight to — hell ! 

Besides these of the city are the country people 
— the peasants and the farmers. Honest, upright, 
hard working, intelligent — but oh, so superstitious 
are the men and women we find here. Yet as in any 
land I suppose they are the freest of all people. 
Here men and women toil together in the slime of 
the rice paddies, transplanting the little rice shoots, 
later cutting and threshing by hand the ripened 
grain. When it is ready for market the one pack 
pony is loaded with bursting rice-straw bags full of 
the pearly grains — until only his shaggy head, 



46 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

scrubby tail, and wabbling legs show below the 
load as he ambles to town — the peasant man walk- 
ing beside him. When the rice harvest is over 
comes the daikon harvest — the digging and bun- 
dling of the foot-long radishes, which are always 
eaten every meal with the rice. Then follow other 
crops in succession — for the Japanese farmer be- 
lieves thoroughly in rotation of crops, and as many 
of them a year as he has strength to put in. Most 
of their homes are roomy, large enough for several 
families of kinsfolk of at least three generations 
to live together in. Most of the houses are made 
with mud walls — inside and out — and thatched 
(roofed) with straw. Most of the boys from these 
homes become the rank and file of the army. 
The officers are chosen from the higher class and 
best educated people. The country girls go to 
work in city factories if they can — but many become 
peasants' wives when about sixteen years old. In the 
summer months the women and girls of the country 
are busy caring for the silkworms — those precious 
little worms that must spin enough silk threads to 
furnish all the ribbons and silk dresses vain little 
city girls and their mamas thinh they need. 

In Osaka City our Sunday-school at Tennoji is 
mostly middle class children — the one at Kizukawa 
is mostly the children of shopkeepers (don't think 
for a moment of American storekeepers, these are 
so different) and factory workers, and the school at 
Tanabe is of farmers' children. We have other 
Sunday-schools, but these happen to be typical. 



JAPANESE HOMES 47 

At Christmas time these schools easily count three 
hundred children — less than ten come from Chris- 
tian homes. Most of the Tennoji Kindergarten 
children are from well-to-do homes and well educated 
parents, several of the fathers having studied abroad. 
Oh, what a hig work there is for us to do ! " Too 
busy, too busy to listen," " Too busy to give one 
hour of their precious holiday," the parents say. 
But they all love music, and pictures — and in the 
poorer homes there is neither. So we gather into 
the Sunday-schools all the little ones we can. 
(Sometimes I wonder that any of them come when 
their parents are so indifferent.) "We know these 
little ones are ours a short time only. We send into 
these homes by the children Christian songs, Chris- 
tian pictures, and best of all Christ messages. In 
the scrap-books and picture post-cards from the 
American children are glimpses of different homes 
— homes with music and pictures and happy faces. 
There are pictures of churches where crowds of old 
and young meet gladly to worship the true God on 
Sunday. There are pictures of farmers who ride 
while they plow and of steam threshers ; there are 
pictures of — oh, what must some Japanese men 
think ? — pictures of a land where loaded wagons are 
pulled by two big, strong horses — such horses as he 
never dreamed were in the world ! Pictures of new 
ideals to give them new hopes and new ambitions 
— and you will pray, with us, that God will bless all 
these messages that Japan shall be full of Christian 
homes before many years. 



IV 

Who is Topsy-Turvy ? 

SOMETIMES one hears Japan spoken of as 
" Topsy-Turvy Land." I'll tell you a few 
things which are opposite ours — but you 
must remember " our " ways are as opposite to 
them — and then you can decide which land is 
" Topsy-Turvy." Their land is as old as the time 
of David — while America is as new as — Columbus ! 

Kitchens are built next the street. 

Parlours are in the back and the beautiful yards 
are in the back. There are no alleys. 

Horses are backed into stalls and stand with their 
heads sticking out the doors, and their feed boxes 
by the door. They usually are not tied but kept in 
by a bar across the end of the stall. 

There are no hitching-posts. The halter is 
wrapped around the fore legs, about the knees of 
Mr. Horse. 

Horses seldom kick but always bite. 

Teamsters never ride — always lead their teams. 

Horses, oxen and dogs are driven tandem, except 
in port cities which are under Western influence. 
Men, women and children are used as horses. 

People always walk at funerals. This applies 
48 



WHO IS TOPSY-TURVY? 49 

to mourners and all except some priests and the 
very feeble, no matter what the distance. 

A funeral procession is gay with banners, cages of 
birds, the brightest of gay flowers, and quaint cos- 
tumes. Pali-bearers are in white or bright blue 
suits. The coifin is white or bright coloured and 
is carried on men's shoulders. And all pass along 
in a swift, cheery movement. Nothing solemn nor 
black. 

Babies are never dressed in white. Always in 
the gayest of colours, silks and silk crepes if possible. 

Men wear divided skirts when " dressed up." 

Peasant women wear trousers while working. 

Men, women and children wear kimonos on the 
street. 

People use squares of soft paper instead of cloth 
handkerchiefs. 

People carry babies and bundles on their backs 
instead of in their arms. 

Women hold their skirts up in front, instead of 
behind as protection against mud. 

People turn to the left, instead of right, on the 
street. 

Children always wear long dresses. 

Stockings are only socks — ankle high for both 
sexes. 

Shoes are wooden clogs or straw sandals, and 
left outside the doors. 

Hats worn only by men and women imitating 
Westerners. 

Neither hats nor gloves worn in house except at 



50 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

theatres. It is not necessary for men to remove 
hats there. 

The front of the book is the end. The story 
begins at the back — or what we call back of the 
book. 

The columns of books and papers are across the 
page horizontal, but the lines of words in the 
columns are perpendicular. 

The addresses on envelopes begin with the state 
name and end with the name of addressee, viz. : 

Japan, Osaka, Sumiyoshi 

Madden, Maude, Mrs. 

The grocer's account reads 50 cts., potatoes ; $1.00, 
sugar ; 45 cts., rice. The amount of money always 
written above the article. 

People say east-north and west-south. 

Cat's tails are always bobbed if not so born. 

Temple bells are rung by a battering pole. There 
are np inside clappers. 

Crooked pine trees are preferred to straight ones 
and plum and cherry trees are raised for flowers 
instead of fruit. 

In striking a match, peeling a potato, sawing or 
planing a board and other such movements the 
motion is always away from the body instead of 
towards it. 

In building a house the carpenter asks the man 
how many mats he will put in each room, and so 
he builds the rooms to fit the mattings. 

The newest neighbour makes the first calls. The 



WHO IS TOPSY-TURVY? 5 J 

most popular hour for calling is 9 a. m. Always 
before midday. Morning is a popular time for 
funerals too. 

Doctors do not send bills, but expect an adequate 
present. Most of them are rich. 

Most of the school-teachers are men or married 
women. 

Most of the embroidering is done by men. Until 
within very recent years all the actors were men. 
Women were not allowed on the stage. 

Among a thousand fairy tales is not one that 
ends in " And they were married and lived happy 
ever after," A wedding is not the object in one of 
them — but heroism is the lesson. 

Children are jpractically allowed their own way 
in everything, and indulged outrageously until 
seven years old — then they are sat down on so 
hard they have no will thereafter. 

All the schools have the same books and cur- 
ricula — all are under the government control. 
Some mission schools have trifling differences. 

Cucumber, pumpkin and melon vines are trained 
upon trellises or over kitchen roofs — never allowed 
their own sweet will on the ground. There is one 
bean whose pods grow upright along the stalk. 

At meals, men and boys are served first. What- 
ever is left on one's plate at a feast is sent home in 
a box. Servants sit on the floor to serve guests 
who also sit on the floor. 

The maid always dusts before she sweeps. 

Very few pictures or treasures are out to dec- 



52 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

orate the rooms — but kept in storehouse and only 
brought out on special occasions. 

Tea and cake are always served before the meal. 
ISTo dessert afterwards. 

Dishes usually washed in cold water and left to 
drain dry. 

Every one eats with chopsticks. 

Houses have no cellars, no attics. 

The inner walls are sliding paper screens. 

But the most striking opposite custom of all is 
that when the people go to their temples they all 

Pay hefore they Pray. 

They never think of going without paying first. 

There are many other queer customs, but this 
sample will do this time. 



The Finding of Kiku — the Geisha 

I TOLD you the story of little Plum Blossom, 
and how she found a happy home in the 
Sendai Orphanage — and I told you that the 
finding of Kiku, her sister, was another story. Kow 
I am ready to tell the story of Chrysanthemum who 
is called Kiku in Japan. 

It is a sad, sad thing that wherever there is a 
great trouble, there are always wicked men ready 
to prey, like beasts, upon the people in trouble. 

At the time of the famine in Korth Japan these 
human sharks were more than active. Before the 
missionary relief committee had hardly a hint of 
the evil going on hundreds of little girls had been 
" borrowed " for a dollar — or ten dollars — accord- 
ing to the sharp wits of their parents — into lives of 
shame. Do not blame the parents. They did not 
know, in most cases, what it meant for their 
daughters. They were all starving, and freezing 
and discouraged. They knew no God to help in 
such a time — and daughter was " only a girl." If 
the man could give her a home, or a place to work, 
how much better for her and for them than to all 
die together, they argued. We cannot judge them. 
The little girls went bravely with these strange 
53 



54 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

men, scarcely shedding a tear — went " to help their 
parents," they supposed. How brave they were ! 
But the only help the poor parents ever got was 
the money in their hands that fatal day. The par- 
ents who really cared, and who wanted to know, 
were told their daughter would be given work in a 
factory or as a servant in some rich man's house — 
or some such story. How could they know it was 
a factory of sin or a house made rich by these un- 
protected helpless girls ? 

Kiku was put in charge of a cross old woman 
whose business was to make city flowers out of 
these country blossoms. At first Kiku was kept 
as a servant. To carry water, build fires, scrub 
floors, and wait on a houseful of exacting women 
besides. She was given to understand this would 
last until another " green " girl came to take her 
place, then she would begin her education as a 
dancing girl. After a few weeks another girl 
came. • Kiku was taken by the old woman to the 
public bath in the morning ; then a hair-dresser 
was called, and after an hour's sitting her hair was 
oiled, fixed and decorated ; and her little thin face 
was painted and rouged until her own mother 
would not have known her. Then fairly good 
kimono and sash were put on her — and nearly all 
the rest of the day was spent, sitting patiently on 
her feet, trying to learn her first lesson on the big 
round samisen (guitar), and the first weird notes of a 
dancer's song. No one cared that her whole body 
ached from its unnatural strain. No one cared for 



THE FINDING OF KIKU 55 

anything about her, except that she hurry and get 
ready to earn money. There was no written music. 
She must learn it all " by heart " from her blind, 
though exacting, teacher. 

In the evening she was given her first lessons in 
etiquette by helping the older girls serve the men 
guests. Later she went out with the old woman — 
always there was the cross old woman to see that 
there was no escape — to banquets, where she helped 
serve, and observed how the real geisha entertained 
their men guests. In this way she was made fa- 
miliar with the ways of men with geisha girls. 

At first the excitement of it, the newness of it, 
the charm of the beautiful clothes, the flattery, the 
candies and the beautiful presents quite appealed to 
her little girl's vain heart. But as the months went 
by and she realized whereunto all this must lead — 
then her only comfort was, " As I give myself to 
these men in this life I am keeping the bottom from 
falling out of the rice bucket at home." 

Poor, deceived, brave little Kiku. 'Not one rin 
of her hard-earned money went to the folks at 
home. Unknown to her they had died soon after 
she was taken away. Her aunt, the only survivor, 
had sold her outright to the geisha man, and all 
her money went to make him rich. Not even her 
beautiful clothes, nor the ribbons in her hair were 
her own. 

When little Ume San told the orphanage mis- 
sionary about Kiku, and the search for her began, 
so well had the geisha man covered his tracks that 



56 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

it was nearly a year before the search ended at the 
geisha house, and then the great conflict began. 
The man had bought her. ISTo one else had any 
claim. He had begun her education (?), she would 
be a profitable investment, indeed he would not let 
her go. The aunt was appealed to. She had noth- 
ing to say. She had sold her rights. Back to the 
man, to the police, to the lawyers went the intrepid 
missionary. Finally the man said for so many 
hundred dollars he would sell her. 'No missionary 
could raise such an amount. Finally the mission- 
ary heard that if Kiku herself would sign a written 
statement that she wanted to be free something 
could be done. Poor girl, all this time she knew 
nothing of what was being done for her. She did 
not know that some one was caring for her, and 
that several Christians were praying for her release. 
She did not even dream of freedom, nor know its 
meaning. Finally, by some stratagem, she acci- 
dentally met Plum Blossom — and Plum Blossom 
told her of the "orphanage and of her need of a 
sister, and she pleaded so well that Kiku even 
signed the paper, — as one in a dream. Now the 
keeper was getting alarmed. He might lose every- 
thing, so he compromised on — I've forgotten the 
amount — but it was small compared to his first 
price. This amount the missionary collected, and 
Kiku, now twelve years old, dressed in a common 
cotton kimono from the orphanage, left her beauti- 
ful clothes and her gilded cage, to come into the 
Christian quiet of the big orphanage family. 



THE FINDING OF KIKU 57 

And now she realizes the awful fate that would 
have been hers if little Plum Blossom had not re- 
membered her just in tiTne. She knows now that 
some of the geisha girls she waited on are sleeping 
in unhonoured graves — some are dragging out a 
painful existence, a diseased body, a diseased soul, 
some are fast becoming the old hags who haunt 
and " train " the " green " girls from the country — 
the deceived little ones. She knows now that the 
gay butterfly life of the geisha girl is like that of 
any butterfly — the plaything of a summer's day, 
at the longest of five summers — and then with its 
gay wings all singed it is thrown aside, and no 
one in all the world seems to care. She knows 
now from what she has been saved, and she wants 
her whole life to be a thank oflPering for such a 
salvation. 

How sad it is to know there are men — even men 
from Christian countries, who see no evil in the 
geisha system. The Japanese themselves, not hav- 
ing a Christian conscience, of course do not expect 
the geisha girls to be pure women. That is why 
no geisha girl is ever admitted into the presence of 
a Japanese man's mother or wife or daughter. 
She is hated by such women. 

Even though she is beautiful to look at, even 
though she sings, plays and dances, and pours wine 
to charm even the eight million gods, there is no 
home in Japan open to receive into it the homeless, 
worse than orphaned, poor, helpless little geisha 
girl, and there are thousands of her in Japan. 



YI 

The Feast for the Dead 

" A KE you homesick, Chiye San — Little Miss 

/--^ Wisdom — now it is the time of the Bon 
JL JL Matsuri?" I asked my little Japanese 
maid one day in the middle of August, when we 
were away in the mountains. 

" Homesick ? " she asked, opening her shining 
black eyes as wide as it is possible for a Japanese 
to do — which isn't very wide — and smiling her own 
merry smile. " Why should I be homesick ? " 

" Well, I'm glad if you are not. I only wanted 
to know how you feel about it since you became a 
Christian. Don't you know that your parents and 
the rest of your family and kinsfolk are keeping 
the Hon Matsuri; all the wanderers are supposed 
to be at home to entertain the spirits of the 
hotoke ? " 

She laughed aloud. " Why, I had forgotten all 
about Bon until the water woman apologized for 
being late yesterday by saying it was Bon and 
there were so many ' country cousins ' in town she 
couldn't get here earlier ! " 

" Chiye, have you become so much of a Christian 
in one short year that you can so easily forget your 
old customs ? " I asked, astonished. 

58 



THE FEAST FOR THE DEAD 59 

" Oh, I am so happy, so relieved now that I 
understand things I didn't understand before. I 
don't forget^ but I think happily. When I was a 
Buddhist — my people have been Shin sect Buddhists 
for hundreds of years, and one is horn a Buddhist, 
you know — I helped to clean and decorate the graves 
in our family cemetery, I put incense, flowers and 
food there, I smoothed the path from the graves to 
our house door, I lit the welcome fire in front of 
our door so the spirits of the dead, the Hotoke 
Saraa, we call them, could ride home on the smoke. 
I helped mother and grandmother prepare the feasts 
for the dead as well as for the living, for as you 
said 'all wanderers,' both living and dead, come 
home to this reunion, this ' all souls' festival.' 

"But" — and she laughed again — " I was a silly 
little girl. I was as glad to get my new kimono, 
sash and other garments — which we all always had 
then — as I was to see the guests and to receive their 
' remembrance ' gifts. 

" I dared not be boisterous or willful or rude 
then, because the good spirits would be offended 
and leave us, and the wicked spirits would haunt 
and curse us. So we were all quiet and happy, yet 
it was a ' ghostly ' time, too. 

" The third night, when the feast was over, I did 
a little girl's share in fitting out the little boat with 
its load of flowers, food, wine, incense and its 
lighted candle, and watched it float away down 
the river — one of the beautiful fleet of spirit boats 
from the families of our village bearing the happy 



60 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

hotohe back to their prison graves for another year. 
I believed they were happy because they had found 
us all good and keeping the feast in memory of 
them. It never occurred to me to ask how they 
got from the river to the grave again. But that is 
like all our old religions. We never question — we 
only ohey. 

" But now I am a Christian all those old customs 
seem like child's play to me. My people do it be- 
cause they know nothing else. Why isn't there 
some one to go to my village to tell of Christ ? 

" Ifow I know ' their angels do always behold the 
face of my Father,' and some day I shall truly see 
and know them. N'ow I know there are no bad 
spirits to harm me except the bad thoughts I admit 
into my own heart. Ifow I am so happy, any time, 
am/y place I pra/y the spirit of my Heavenly Father 
visits me — and instead of offering food, incense and 
wine on the graves to the dead I am to help the 
living. Oh, this is so much better. 

" My mistress, your ancestors were Christians, so 
you cannot realize the freedom Christianity is to us 
— to me. In those old days I would hardly enjoy 
a walk or an outing of any kind lest I should un- 
thinkingly pass by some god or the abode of some 
spirit and not worship it, and so be haunted. My 
father is Shinto, of course, as well as Buddhist — 
for he is a righteous man — and he taught me to 
worship with a grateful heart the yayorodzu kami 
(the eight million Shinto gods). He said I would 
find them in the mountains, trees, rocks, rivers, fire, 



THE FEAST FOR THE DEAD 6t 

even in the fire in our own kitchen fireplace, as 
well as in the myriad shrines by the roadsides. 
And since by these human life is sustained, of 
course they must be gratefully worshipped. They 
must be feared also, because in them, too, is the 
power of death. But now I know the one true, 
loving God who created all these things, and who 
is my Father / I have no fear. I forget the old 
customs — I am too happy to care for them," 

Wasn't my little maid beautifully named Chiye 
— Wisdom ? 



YII 
The Shrine of the Goddess of Mercy 

AMONG the thousand or more heathen 
temples in Tokyo, the capital city of Japan, 
the one at A-sa-ku-sa is, to me, the most 
awful and the most interesting. 

It is an immense structure covering several acres 
of ground ; old, having been built in the seven- 
teenth century ; dirty, being the roosting place of 
chickens, pigeons and sparrows ; and popular — an 
incessant stream of people visiting it daily until its 
receipts sometimes amount to one thousand yen 
(five hundred dollars) a day ! It is dedicated to 
Kwannon, the thousand handed goddess of mercy. 

The temple is close to the fine modern iron 
bridge across the Sumida River, famous the world 
over for the pink cherry blooms along its banks 
and the lantern decorated pleasure boats on its 
breast. 

Originally the temple was in a village separate 
from Tokyo — but the city has grown until now it 
stands in the midst of its thickest — and possibly 
poorest — population. 

The legend says an image of Kwannon was 
caught in a fisherman's net in the river close by. 
His humble home was its first abode . . . af- 

62 




Kwannon, Goddess of Mercy 



SHRINE OF THE GODDESS OF MERCY 63 

terwards this temple was erected for it. The image 
was less than two inches high. Hence the Japa- 
nese proverb, " As big as Asakusa (temple), as small 
as its image." 

From the main street (where we leave the electric 
car) to the temple is a good block. Both sides of 
the street are lined with wide open — doorless — 
shops where almost everything Japanese and many- 
things foreign can be purchased. Toys, of course 
(are there such wonderful toy-shops anywhere else 
in the world ?), food, clothing, curios, idols, incense, 
all sorts of temple offerings — and what not ! Any- 
thing for any kind of person — or better, everything 
for every kind of person can here be bought " at 
the lowest price " — so the posters say ! 

"We pass through a huge wooden gate with a 
heavy tiled roof. Its hollow pillars, little houses 
themselves, each contain a great, hideous wooden 
Ni-o, or guardian god, made more repulsive still by 
the paper wads spat on them by those who court 
their favour. To the right of the entrance is the 
great bronze bell, rung by a battering beam, swung 
from the overhanging roof. To the left is a small 
post containing a wooden wheel, the prayer wheel 
which the devotee turns when praying that the 
sins of previous existences may roll away as it re- 
volves — or that each revolution may be accepted as 
a prayer. 

Wear by are several old women sitting on both 
sides of the way with cages of birds. For the pay- 
ment of a few sen (cash) these birds are set free, 



64 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

and at the same time some unknown spirit is freed 
from purgatory. The birds are so tame that I 
skeptically wonder how many spirits each bird lib- 
erates in a day ! 

Next we come to the rough looking but ever 
present collection box at the foot of the temple 
steps. Ajpjparentl/y we aire the only ones who do not 
see it, thanks to our Western training ! 

Mounting the steps we stand on a broad portico. 
Just inside the building are wonderfully carved 
rafters and cornices, painted ceilings, pictures by 
famous artists, a number of large paper lanterns 
reaching almost from ceiling to floor, — all the gifts 
of patrons — as their painted hierogljrphics boldly 
declare to those who can read, and all these more 
or less filthy because unprotected from the fowls 
whose habitation is in this " holy " place. 

Then we meet another treasure chest, a very 
great one, directly in front of the altar. There is 
no doubt about it in the Japanese mind — one must 
pay if he would pray. Between this chest and the 
altar is a great log — a " mourners' bench " — highly 
polished by its centuries of use. At the right of 
the coffer is a wooden idol, supposed to be Binzuru, 
who, they say, took upon himself all the ills the 
flesh is heir to, and died of them, that others might 
be cured by his sacrifice. Whosoever comes to him 
and first rubs the part of the idol corresponding to 
the location of his own disease, and then rubs his 
own sore part, will surely be healed. The people 
have proven their faith in this old stick by the fact 



SHRINE OF THE GODDESS OF MERCY 65 

that Ms face is entirely rubhed away. A smooth- 
pointed, polished post is all that remains of what 
was once carved as a more than life-sized head ! 

Near this idol is a shrine where lovers leave their 
petitions — written slips of paper tied to the wire 
screen around the idol. Although marriages are 
merely matters of business between parents — the 
sight of this netting declares Cupid has work to do 
even in Japan. 

On the left of the money chest is the maternity 
idol, a woman with a babe in her lap. Near by are 
other idols and altars. 

Just before the money chest, surrounded and 
protected by a wire netting, is the great altar, 
with its golden dishes, candlesticks, dimly burning 
candles, its sweet-scented, ever-burning incense ; its 
food and flower offerings of many kinds and its 
thirty-three idols, representing thirty-three of the 
incarnations of the goddess of mercy. Still back of 
this (or rather in front — since we are going into the 
temple) is the holy of holies, where the original 
image is supposed to be, though I am told no one 
has seen this for years and years and years. 

Nor is this all. The main temple is surrounded 
by many small buildings, shrines, monuments and 
theatres. One small temple is especially interest- 
ing, as it contains stone images of a thousand or 
more babies. The idol herein is Jizo, the especial 
guardian of children. The images are babies who 
have died and whose poor, lonely mothers have 
brought these things here, imploring protection of 



€(> LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

them in the spirit world. Stone babies protected 
by a stone god — where shall a mother's heart find 
comfort here ? 

Then we turn — with the crowd — to the shows, 
dog shows, monkey shows, bird shows, dancers, 
jugglers, acrobats, theatres, moving pictures, ferris 
wheel, a great mingling of all the mad merry 
things of East and West. A tower to climb for a 
fine view of the city, a tall pagoda, which no one 
may enter, tea houses, lunch counters, ice-cream, 
soda pop, peanuts, photograph dens— equal, yes, 
more than equal to a state fair or Luna Park in 
America. 

But, after all, the people are the most interesting 
study. One can see the buildings in a short time ; 
but to stop and watch the people who come to 
Asakusa is the great fascination. See them throng- 
ing through the gates ! Such a crowd. If the 
people in America, who think because Japan had 
powep to conquer Kussia she is a near-Christian 
nation, could see this — they would quickly change 
their minds. 

Here is a man of about forty-five years kneeling 
at the altar ; his deep trouble plainly written on his 
face. How long he has been here I do not know ; 
presently he wearily rises and hopelessly, it seems, 
walks slowly away. The expression on his face is 
pitiful to see. What is his grief? A wayward 
son — wayward because from babyhood there was 
no "Thou God seest me" for him. Meanwhile 
many others have come. The copper coins clatter 



SHRINE OF THE GODDESS OF MERCY 67 

in the coffer like the sound of summer hail. The 
clapping of prayer-lifted hands is as incessant, — so 
they notify the goddess of their presence. Many 
have said their brief prayer and gone away — some 
sadly to their homes, but many gaily to the shows 
— with a clear conscience. 

Old men and young, boys and girls, matrons and 
maids, all come, even mothers with month-old 
babes. Here is a mother now. How proud she 
seems as the little one learns from her how to clap 
its chubby hands and bow to the unseen idol. 
Their little prayer ended they proceed to Binzuru, 
where the mother rubs her hand across the idol's 
eyes, then rubs it across the baby's eyes, and laugh- 
ing happily, catches up the little one and hurries 
away to the shows — and the baby " catches " oph- 
thalmia from the idol and before the year is out 
may become blind. A grandfather next attracts 
attention, his hair white with age. He is bringing 
his two-year-old grandchild with him. This little 
one has been well taught already, for without any 
prompting her tiny face is bowed above her tiny 
hands in reverence and she stands like a statue of 
devotion until the slow old grandfather is ready 
to go away. What a heritage for childhood ! 
" From a child thou hast known " — what ? Here 
comes a young matron. She first visits the mater- 
nity goddess — then turns lightly from this to the 
main altar, then to each of the others in turn. 
Next a farmer catches our eye. He seems to be 
driving a bargain with a priest behind the netting 



68 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

— for there are many priests, apparently uncon- 
cerned, but really with cat-like eyes — watching the 
surging crowds. Ah ! our farmer has come for a 
horoscope of his planting season — evidently he likes 
not the looks of it — we wait a while — a little bit of 
folded white paper slips from the toil hardened 
hand to the smooth, pale palm, along with the dis- 
heartening horoscope, and a new sheet is drawn 
from a different lot — and after a glance at it Mr. 
Farmer goes away smiling — there is also the sus- 
picion of a smile on the priest's face as the folded 
white paper disappears within his capacious sleeve. 

" I see the long procession 
Still passing to and fro ; 
The young heart hot and restless — 
The old, subdued and slow." 
Aud forever aud forever 
As long as the temple stands — 
As long as the Christian Gospel 
Comes not to these Eastern lands — 
These lives with their world old burdens, 
Their sorrows and their fears, 
Will bow in superstition 
And faint with the coming years, 
While the Shepherd who sought the lost one 
Afar in the darkness alone 
The' a King crowned now in heaven 
Must be weeping on His throne. 



YIII 
While the Incense Burned 

JUST a month from the day a happy group of 
Sendai women had their photograph taken 
they were called to attend the funeral of Mrs. 
Sawa, the most charming matron of the group. 
Mrs. Sawa, though enjoying the Christian meetings 
of this group, had not taken an outward stand for 
Christ. Her family were all Buddhist — so, though 
it made our hearts very heavy, we saw her laid 
away with Buddhist rites. 

At nine o'clock in the morning we were ushered 
into the parlour of her home by some of Mr. Sawa's 
students. "We proffered our gift of special funeral 
cakes of sugar and rice flour, wrapped in white 
paper tied with black and white string and marked 
in the way prescribed for funerals. 

There were no women in the room. Mr. Sawa 
received our gift, and poured us a cup of tea. With 
him sat a group of other men, relatives and inti- 
mate friends. 

In front of the parlour alcove — the sacred place of 
the Japanese home — stood the square, unpainted 
cedar coffin, covered with a rich, pale blue satin 
brocade spread (pall). The Buddhists bury their 

69 



70 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

dead in a sitting posture — an attitude of prayer — 
and they usually cremate them — but Mrs. Sawa 
was not cremated. 

Back of the cofB.n and at each end stood eight 
stands of lotus blossoms, buds and leaves, each 
stand about six feet high. These were made of 
beautiful gold, silver, green, red, pink and white 
paper. On the coffin were a lot of lighted candles, 
some vases of cut iris flowers, and the photograph 
we had had taken the month before ; beside this 
was her own little clock, its hands stopped at the 
minute of her death. 

In front of the coffin, on a tiny table with a 
silken cover, stood a bowl of burning incense, 
whose fragrance filled the room. As we saw its 
tiny curl of blue smoke hovering over our beloved's 
coffin, it was almost easy to think with the Japa- 
nese present that this was the sweet scented 
chariot sent to convey her sweet spirit away. All 
aroun(i this table were heaped the numberless 
funeral gifts — that her spirit might know her 
friends remembered her and wished her well on 
her long, long journey through the dark " shide " 
(death) mountains and across the " Sanzo " river. 

As we sat on the mats, our feet doubled back 
under us, the baby boy toddled into the room. 
His grandfather led him immediately to the incense 
bowl, put several sticks of incense into his baby 
hands and showed him how to light and burn 
them; then how to pray to his mother's spirit. 
After this we gave our little message — just one 



WHILE THE INCENSE BURNED 7J 

tiny Christian seed — and left to make room for 
other guests who were coming in to offer incense. 

Promptly at two o'clock we were waiting in our 
kuruma, with others, the forming of the funeral 
procession in front of the house. 

Three Buddhist priests, in costly robes of green, 
gray and purple, with hands clasped in an attitude 
of prayer, but with faces plainly showing their dis- 
solute lives, led the way. ISText came eight coolies 
(burden bearing men) dressed in blue uniform, car- 
rying the eight stands of lotus plants ; then twelve 
more coolies, each carrying an evergreen tree (not 
a pine tree, but a kind of camellia always used in 
funerals). Then came eight more coolies each car- 
rying a ten-foot long banner, black, orange, red, 
blue, green and purple — Buddhist colours— then 
two white banners on which were written the 
proper name of the deceased — her death name and 
a Buddhist motto. Following these was the 
kuruma in which grandfather rode, holding baby 
boy on his lap, as chief mourner — and in the baby's 
hands was held a prayer tablet of wood. 

Behind this kuruma walked twelve women 
friends, dressed in pale gray, with white veils over 
their heads, each carrying a spray of purple iris in 
one hand, and holding a thin white cord attached 
to the bier in the other. 

The bier, unpainted, clean, white new cedar, 
trimmed with brass bells and lanterns borne on the 
shoulders of ten coolies, came next, followed closely 
by two more priests in costly robes, gay with iri- 



72 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

descent embroidery — each riding in a kuruma. 
Other kurumas followed containing elderly rela- 
tives and friends — in the last of these we rode. 
Following us was a large company of young people, 
mostly men, students and friends of Professor Sawa 
— who walked the long, long way to the great 
Buddhist temple nearly three miles away. 

The long procession went gaily along, all the 
brightness of colour and quick oriental movement 
of it having the appearance, to "Western eyes at 
least, of a pleasure party, rather than a funeral 
cortege. This is part of the Buddhist teaching, 
that we should conceal our sorrow, and submit 
cheerfully to the inevitable ; so each funeral winds 
up with a merry feast. 

It was quite four o'clock when we reached the 
temple gate. Here and there the deep, solemn, 
sweet tones of the evening prayer bells of other 
temples, half hidden in their deep groves, rather in- 
tensified the stillness, as the afternoon sun shone 
fitfully through the semi twilight of the tall cedar 
trees. Indeed it was an ideal place, here, for 
prayer and meditation — the chief doctrines of the 
Buddhist religion — a place where one might leave 
all care and thought of the world behind — a place 
for the dead ; but no place at all for Christian cheer 
and the service for others. 

"We left our kuruma outside the temple gate. 
Our priests — and others — were already at their 
places in the temple. The flowers, banners and 
a large bowl of burning incense were arranged on 



WHILE THE INCENSE BURNED 73 

the steps. Numerous candles burned before and 
around the golden images of Buddha and his saints, 
within the altar rail. Many bright flowers added 
their colour — and dishes of food before them re- 
minded us Westerners that, to these Japanese, 
spirits hunger even as do bodies. 

The great bell of the temple kept tolling, tolling 
solemnly, and all the while it tolled the coolies, 
carrying the bier on their weary shoulders, and 
preceded by the women in gray, only, marched 
slowly around and around and around in a circle, 
in the courtyard in front of the temple, until I 
was almost dizzy watching them. A great hush 
prevailed — only the shuffling of the cloth shod feet 
on the pavement, only the solemn tones of the bell, 
only the subdued tones of the priests softly chant- 
ing a prayer for the dead were heard — and as we 
stood solemnly watching, the blue smoke of the 
sweet scented incense ascended and curled like the 
beckoning of her ghostly hands waving us a gentle 
farewell. Since she was a woman, this endless jour- 
ney in front of the temple symbolized the endless 
incarnations through which our beautiful sister 
must pass in the spirit world — until in some future 
time she may he horn a man, and so gain Nirvana, 
peace and rest. 

When the bell ceased tolling (I wish I had 
counted the strokes to see what significant number 
they were) the women took their places in the 
temple, with the relatives at the right of the priests. 
The guests were seated on the mats at the left. AU. 



74 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

were served with tea and cake. The coffin, re- 
moved now from the bier, rested on the top step, 
outside the door. For death is unholy. The priests, 
beating their drums, striking their hand bells, wail- 
ing their hymns and burning more incense, kept up 
a noisy ceremony while all the relatives and most of 
the guests went forward one by one to clap their 
hands and bow in prayer and offer incense in wor- 
ship before the coffin, to the spirit of our sister. 
Not knowing its black hopelessness to the Oriental 
mind, one might exclaim, " What a picturesque cere- 
mony " — but understanding — one weeps instead. 

My heart ached most for Mrs. Sawa's sweet 
young sister, who about a year before, against her 
parent's wishes — but with their reluctant consent — 
had become a Christian. Was it in persecution this 
gentle sister was compelled to burn a treble portion 
of incense, and to remain continually throughout the 
service in an attitude of prayer before Mrs. Sawa's 
coffin ? Her young face flushed by the long walk 
to the temple soon paled until it became death-like, 
and her uplifted hands trembled in their clapping, 
her lithe body swayed to and fro until I feared she 
would faint. Was she praying to Christ for mercy, 
for this apparent yielding to heathen friends ? I'm 
sure her heart was pure — but what could one little 
girl do against a whole clan of heathen relatives — 
and how could a missionary help her — when she 
had had no idea what was coming ? Poor little 
sister ! 

Another hour passed — it was almost sundown, 




u 



WHILE THE INCENSE BURNED 75 

when the coolies bore the coffin to the grave be- 
hind the temple. Only six relatives and I went 
with it — all the others returned home — not even 
one priest showed his shaven face. Without hymn 
or prayer or ceremony the coolies lowered the coifin 
into the shallow grave, each of us threw in a hand- 
ful of earth (I had not known before this was a 
heathen custom) and the coolies hastily closed the 
grave. The rootless evergreen trees of the proces- 
sion were planted in a little avenue of approach to 
the top of the grave — where a tiny shrine was 
placed, containing a slab on which had been written 
her posthumous name. Before this shrine food 
and drink were placed and a bowl of incense 
burned. Up this tiny path each one walked to 
worship, and each woman planted her spray of iris 
bloom here. 

Then the little sister staggered to me, and falling 
into my outstretched arms clung and sobbed and 
wept most broken-heartedly. The father came and 
thanked me for coming — and soon little sister and I 
wept alone beside the new made grave — and the sun 
went down. 

This is a long, sad tale, but I must tell you the 
bright sequel. 

The next day, just as the father's messenger — who 
had brought us a thank offering of cakes made like 
pink lotus bloom, and a pound of tea and a note 
saying the funeral feast would be held the seventh 
day after — was leaving, a trained nurse who at- 
tended the Bible class came in. 



76 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

She said, " I missed last Friday's meeting, because 
I was attending Mrs. Sawa — she was buried yester- 
day." " Yes," I said, " I attended the funeral ; tell 
me all about her illness. Do you think she was a 
Christian in her heart ? " The nurse replied, " Her 
sickness was very sudden — she died of blood-poison- 
ing — from a scratch on her beautiful face — it was 
awful — but she was brave. One evening when I 
thought she was asleep, I was reading my Bible at 
her bedside, when she opened her eyes and said — 
' "What book are you reading, nurse ? ' ' The 
Bible,' I answered. * "Where did you get it ? Are 
there Christians in this hospital ? ' ' Yes,' I an- 
swered, ' That is good ; when the doctor comes 
again will you ask him to pray with me and for 
me ? ' she said. I promised. Then, at her request, 
I read aloud from the Bible until she went to sleep. 
Those were the last words I heard her say. / am 
sure she believed Christ was her Saviour, her death 
was soc peaceful. And, now, I want to be baptized 
to-morrow ! I cannot see another person die and 
be powerless to help them." 

On the morrow, which was the Lord's Day, not 
only the nurse, but two other women from our 
happy photograph group, who had been impressed 
of their helpless condition by Mrs. Sawa's sudden 
death, were buried with their Lord in baptism. 

Of Mrs. Sawa I thought — " Beautiful in life, in 
death she had glorified her Lord, and not all the 
burning incense nor all the heathen funeral cere- 
monies in the world can separate her from His love." 



IX 

The Bear Dance 

OLD PENRI sat cross-legged on a red 
blanket, at the tent door on the Exhibition 
grounds, patiently carving arrows. Beside 
him, playing with the uncarved bamboo sticks, sat 
Little Penri, his great-great-grandson. As the 
American boys came up Old Penri slowly arose, 
and, gracefully rubbing his hands together, waving 
his arms and stroking his long snow white beard, 
gave them the Ainu greeting — while a warmer wel- 
come shone in his wonderfully large, lustrous, 
dark, round eyes. Little Penri stood and tried to 
imitate his grandfather. 

The boys had come to buy bows and arrows and 
to see the Bear Dance (not the dancing bear) of 
which they had heard. They expected to see soa)- 
age people — the kindly greeting from this gentle 
old man was a surprise to them. 

Old Penri, shadowed by Little Penri, led them 
within the disgracefully rude matting tent which 
the Japanese Exhibition authorities had permitted 
for the housing of the tribe of thirty Ainu. 

" The Bear Dance will begin soon," he said in 
the Japanese language — which both he and the 
missionary's boys understood. " We give it three 
times a day." Then he showed them "the three 

77 



78 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

bears," a half-grown cub in a tiny pen, a big black 
bear chained to a post near a platform, and a stuffed 
black bear close by, looking quite alive. 

In less time than it takes to tell it the boys were 
surrounded by the whole tribe of curious hairy men 
and tattooed women. How quiet they were, how 
kind. They paid no attention to the throngs of 
Japanese now entering the tent to see the dance — 
but showed the boys all their treasures as if they 
were entertaining old friends. 

Presently a Japanese woman, in a little matted 
recess in the tent, began to beat a most nerve-rack- 
ing tom-tom on a kettle-drum — accompanied by 
two girls each beating with hands and elbows on 
corset shaped drums. Further talk was impossible. 
The beautiful mother of Little Penri led the boys 
to an elevated platform for " first class " spectators. 
The Ainu men with many grins and waves at the 
boys quietly took their places on their own raised 
platf onm. They slipped off their kimono-like frocks 
and began a wrestling match — like a lot of boys. 
Was it courtesy alone that the Patriarch Penri 
proved the champion of all ? Next followed a 
queer game of tug. Embroidered forehead reins 
were slipped on the heads of two men, the ends 
were fastened together — and the men pulled, each 
the opposite way — with head alone — until one had 
pulled the other over. Then the women put on 
these head reins and showed how they carried their 
babies on their backs in a swing supported by these 
reins only — and how by these head reins they drag 



THE BEAR DANCE 79 

heavy sleds of wood in their northern home. It 
was a wonderful test of strength. The archery 
test came next, the great-great-grandfather hold- 
ing his own in every match. When this was fin- 
ished the women spread down gaily-woven mats 
on the platform, the men seating themselves in 
a semicircle, according to age. The women placed 
a bright lacquered tray containing several feast 
bowls before each man. A curiously whittled post 
of white wood, its long shaving curls still hanging 
on it, stood at the head of the semicircle. This, 
the boys were told, was considered by the Ainu as 
the symbol of the household god or guardian spirit. 
It may also represent the spirit of the Black Bear 
which they worship. Almost opposite this, just 
by the platform, was a hideously-carved giant totem 
pole. 

When all was ready the men saluted each other 
elaborately — ajpjparently drank a great quantity of 
beer — served by a few of the women, and ate their 
feast. Meanwhile the other women, with a kind 
of locked step, clapping their hands and beating 
their breasts to a beautiful, weird rhythm, like the 
sound of a chill north wind whistling down the chim- 
ney of a haunted house, marched in a wide circle 
around the sacrificial bear — the living one chained 
to the post. Presently some of the men who had 
finished their feast also joined this solemn parade — 
while other men began to torment the bear by 
prodding him with sticks. Then after more beer 
drinking, the men, beginning with Old Penri, shot 



80 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

arrows at the bear till he was (supposedly) dead. 
But for various reasons the stuffed bear was soon 
substituted for the living one — to the boys' intense 
relief — and doubtless to his Bearship's also. When 
the (stuffed) bear was almost dead he was carried 
upon the platform and finished by crushing (?) his 
head. Then with great ceremony, beer and feast 
foods were offered him in front of the sacred shav- 
ings (inao). This is the way the Ainu worship the 
sacred bear once every year in their own land. At 
the real festival, after the bear is killed, its spirit 
also partakes of soup made of its own flesh, while 
the people are feasting on its flesh and drinking its 
soup. In this way, they say, their spirits and its 
become one. (In this pitiful way are they not 
longing for the Living God ?) 

Until the end of the feast the women had been 
dancing — now it was over, and they threw them- 
selves wearily down upon the mats. The crowd of 
proud . Japanese, who scorn these simple Ainu, 
passed out of the tent. 

The American boys went back to look at the 
curios again. They wished for money enough to 
buy one of the beautiful, crudely embroidered 
robes — so like, yet so unlike, a kimono. These are 
made of tan-coloured hemp cloth, hand woven, 
trimmed with navy blue cotton cloth applique, or 
embroidered with white or red threads in outline 
of tendrils and vines, or in geometrical patterns. 
Their baskets of reeds and swamp grass are simi- 
larly decorated. But instead of the frock the boys 



THE BEAR DANCE 8J 

bought cherry wood bows and bamboo arrows, 
carved or burned, some tipped with bear's bone 
and winged with wild turkey quills. They bought 
a few flint and topaz arrow-heads and some cherry 
wood chopsticks. Unlike the Japanese chopsticks, 
which are always separate, these were joined by a 
ring, the two sticks and the ring having been carved 
from a single piece of wood. For mother they 
bought a swamp-grass bag, with red threads inter- 
woven, some wooden squares to wind thread on, 
and a wooden spoon — these had all been carved 
and ornamented by the skillful hands of Old Penri. 
Indeed the bag was the one in which he had kept 
his carving tools. 

When they had finished their purchases they 
asked the Patriarch about his people. The old man, 
settling himself again on the red blanket by the 
door, said, " Long before the Japanese people came 
to this land my fathers lived here simply, hunting 
and fishing. Peaceful we were and content. The 
Black Bear was our great spirit, and brought us 
good luck. Then from the south and west came 
these strange people, the Japanese. They were 
fighters, and gradually my people were driven 
north and farther north. The few of us who 
remain were sent to the Hokkaido Island nearly 
fifty years ago. There we live in our own ways in 
our tiny villages. But our young people are going 
to the Japanese schools and they will become Jap- 
anese some day. 

" Mr. Batcheler, the missionary, has come among 



82 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

us, and some of the tribe are Christian. That is 
one reason we were all so glad to see you boys 
to-day." 

" Thank you, Grandfather. Sayonara," said the 
boys. " Sayonara, please come again ; we are 
lonely so far from home," said Old Penri, aged 
eighty-three, and " Sayonara " piped up Little 
Penri, aged three, and " Sayonara " echoed the 
others as they followed the boys to the big gate. 

These Ainu, the aborigines of Japan, are very 
like the squatty, round-faced type of American 
Indian. Yery like Indian things are their weaving 
and pottery. Yery unlike the Japanese is their 
wonderfully abundant wavy hair and their round, 
beautiful, horizontal, expressive eyes and their firm, 
white teeth. 

Unlike the Japanese, the Ainu women tattoo 
their faces all around the mouth ; the effect is that 
of a three days' beard. The boys asked why they 
did this. Little Penri's beautiful mother laughed 
and said, " To make us beautiful, of course ! " Un- 
like the Japanese, they decorate themselves with 
earrings, bracelets, strings of beads and silver 
bangles. 

Professor Starr once said: "The Ainu has a 
truly white skin — when it is washed — which is but 
seldom, and all his features suggest the white race, 
rather than the yellow." He is the hairiest mortal 
known. Esau couldn't have been more hairy. 

Long life to Old Penri, Little Penri and the 
beautiful mother 1 




The oldest son of Penri, holding a sacrificial bear 



Asama, a Japanese Volcano 

THERE are about fifty active volcanos in 
Japan. Mount Asama, 8,200 feet high, in 
Shinano Province, Central Japan, is per- 
haps the most active, the most famous, and, because 
of its regular, gradual slope, the most easily climbed. 
It is visited, annually, by hundreds of tourists, both 
native and foreign. When I saw it first, some years 
ago, it seldom deigned to " smoke " for sightseers ; 
but the volume of smoke ejected has increased with 
the years, until now its mile wide, circular crater 
constantly belches forth great plumes of variously 
coloured smoke and steam. There are white, black, 
many grays, and, in the sunset, most inexpressibly 
gorgeous colours. The sight is worth crossing the 
world to see. Frequently something heavier than 
smoke is ejected. 

Karuizawa, a mountain village summer resort, six 
hours by rail from Tokyo, is the usual starting point 
for Asama climbers. It is ten miles, " as the crow 
flies," from the village to the volcano ; but twice 
that distance " by the road," and seemingly thrice 
it by the angling gait of a wild, little Japanese 
pack-pony. Usually a party leaves Karuizawa in 
the evening and climbs at night, in order to get the 

83 



84 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

fine sunrise view. And another day they visit the 
great lava stream formed by Asama's greatest 
eruption in 1783, on the farther side of the moun- 
tain. Our party undertook to do both the lava 
stream and the crater in one trip. In view of our 
experience, I would advise separate days for each 
trip and any time between May and October. July 
and August are the most popular months. 

We left Karuizawa (shallow swamp) at six 
o'clock one August morning. Our quarrelsome 
ponies travelled single file, each one led by a 
coolie. Fancy the excitement of it ! But we were 
excited, when on the brink of a canon, some of the 
ponies, to keep up their reputation, went wild and 
upset a man who boasted of successful horsemanship 
in Kentucky ! 

The morning was perfect; the distant scenery 
beautiful ; the wild flowers along the way were of 
many varieties, including at least a dozen kinds and 
colours *of lilies. After passing the village of Kut- 
sukake and a sawmill beyond, our road ascended a 
deep canon, over whose tree tops we looked down 
on another road leading to the lumber camps and to 
the lonely huts of charcoal burners within its depths. 

At eleven o'clock we reached Wakasare tea house, 
on the side of Mount Asama opposite Karuizawa, 
and had tea, while our coolies lunched on cold rice, 
pickles and hot tea. In half an hour we were off 
again. We turned sharply to the left of the tea 
house and crossed what was, possibly, an ancient 
lava bed, but is now a dusty wilderness of great, 



ASAMA, A JAPANESE VOLCANO 85 

burnt boulders and stunted pines. Our path across 
this desert was marked at intervals of about twenty 
rods by stone images of Kwannon, the Goddess of 
Mercy. In the midst of this wilderness, we crossed 
a shallow basin, rank with rushes, coarse grass, wild 
iris and golden lilies. Each step of the horses' hoofs 
echoed as though the ground beneath was hollow. 
Our party became suddenly silent. "Were we cross- 
ing a sunken lake on a thin bridge of earth crust ? 
Anciently there were lakes at Asama's base ; there 
are none now. 

About half-past twelve we dismounted. The 
horses were tethered to the forlorn trees, and there, 
suddenly, because heretofore screened by the trees, 
stood before our astonished eyes a great reddish- 
gray, jagged wall of lava rocks, almost perpendicular 
and nearly thirty feet high ! The desire to scale it 
was only checked by hunger. Near a great boulder, 
a tiny stream of ice water trickled out. Here we 
spread our blankets and prepared to lunch, but the 
frigid temperature surprised us into changing our 
camp. 

Lunch finished, we scrambled up that wonderful 
wall. Words fail to describe what we saw, but 
we can never forget it. Is there such desolation 
anywhere else in the world ? Like a bit of the 
ocean it lay there ; an ocean of storm-tossed, crested 
waves, congealed while tossing into giant, burnt- 
out, useless cinder boulders, with deep chasms 
between ; silent, dead, old, rusty and gray. This 
is fourteen miles long by six miles wide, and buried 



86 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

beneath it lie several small villages and a primeval 
forest. Here and there an apish pine, a shrivelled 
shrub or a bit of gray moss has sought to relieve 
its dreariness ; but no sign of animal life was 
there. ITot even a crow's call broke the awful 
silence. On both sides this lava stream is sharply 
outlined by the trees of the wilderness forests. Of 
late years these forests are rapidly being cut down 
for lumber. Beyond these wildernesses were fields 
of green things growing. Far in the west were 
beautiful foot-hills and the blue peaks of the wild, 
saw-toothed Shinshu-Hida Mountains, the wildest, 
grandest and most unknown of all Japan's wonder- 
ful mountains. Back of us, in awful grandeur, 
grumbling and growling and shaking a great 
plume of smoke at us, rose the creator of the lava 
stream, Mount Asama. 

The guide called us ; the day was passing and we 
who were brave enough, or foolish enough, to ascend 
the volcano that night must hasten to rest in prepa- 
ration for the climb. Reluctantly we retraced our 
steps to the tea house. On the way the talkative 
guide told us that this lava stream was made by an 
awful eruption in 1783. " When with the voice of 
a thousand thunders, with lightnings and earth- 
quakes, it seemed as if the entire mountain was 
bursting to pieces ! " Two lakes at its base disap- 
peared and several villages were destroyed. Even 
as far away as Karuizawa, with intervening foot- 
hills and deep valleys, fifty houses were burned by 
the showers of red hot rocks. The villagers cov- 



ASAMA, A JAPANESE VOLCANO 87 

ered their heads with buckets, crocks and heavy 
quilts and fled in the darkness and terror beyond 
the farther mountains. Day and night became as 
one, lighted only by the mountain's lurid flames and 
the lightning's almost incessant flashes. All this 
terror lasted from June 25th to August Tth and the 
dust fell and the earthquake shook the country 
eighty miles away. Then the mountain became 
quiet again. The natives insist that as long as it 
keeps continually active, as it now is, there can be 
no great eruption, so they feel perfectly safe in 
their homes and laugh at the white man's fears. 
By some curious old manuscript books in Karuizawa 
village, we authenticated the guide's story. 

Beyond Wakasare tea house, on the eastern slope 
of Asama, w© climbed to the edge of timber line. 
Here the horses were tethered for the night. We 
had our supper and rested until nearly ten o'clock. 
Darkness comes quickly in Japan, there is scarcely 
a twilight's warning, and after a glorious sunset, 
caused by the clouds of fitfully puffing steam, the 
stars were soon sparkling overhead. The lava 
stream seemed to have belonged to some other 
sphere, this place was so beautiful in contrast. 

At ten o'clock the guides lighted their paper 
lanterns, adjusted their packs, and our procession 
started on its upward climb. How solemn and 
weird it seemed to us to be climbing that mys- 
terious mountain in the night ! We felt like the 
mother goose woman who said, " Is this me or 
not me ? " 



88 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

The first part of the ascent is rather toilsome. 
The cinders are fine and loose and one's feet often 
slip. Most of us were not mountaineers and so 
frequent stops for breath were necessary. One 
man suggested that we nibble a bit of sweet choco- 
late frequently and it helped our breathing very 
much indeed. About midnight we were congratu- 
lating ourselves upon our solid road, our good prog- 
ress and our fine weather, when, change ! a terrific 
gale struck us suddenly slap in the face. The full 
moon as suddenly disappeared, the guides' lanterns 
were extinguished, some were blown entirely away ; 
some men lost their hats ; it looked as if wind would 
conquer gravitation this time and we be hurled 
away. Close together, like a flock of frightened 
sheep, we huddled in the darkness and surprise of 
the storm. " Shall we go on, or back ? " was the 
only question. The roar of the wind, plus the roar 
of the mountain, made hearing almost impossible 
two feet away. The guides assured us there was 
no present danger, so tying ourselves together, 
wearily, ploddingly, often lying flat on the earth 
for breath, we fought that fiendish wind, deter- 
mined to conquer. We toiled on this way about two 
hours, when a crevice of an old crater was reached. 
Here we hoped for a rest before the final sprint for 
the crater, some fifteen minutes further on. But 
the wind was still against us, the crevice gave no 
protection, yet we felt we must rest, so rolled up in 
our blankets. " Foolish tenderfeet ! " While we 
rested, the storm increased. The guides aroused us ; 



ASAMA, A JAPANESE VOLCANO 89 

we started to make a final rush, but too late. That 
will-o'-the-wisp, Opportunity, had left us to pay the 
penalty of our sleeping. The guides forced us back 
into the crevice, but now it was occupied by a 
party of about fifty Japanese pilgrims, come to 
worship the god in the crater. So, with cloud 
soaked blankets and spirits as damp, we turned our 
reluctant feet downward. About four o'clock in 
the morning we had our reward. The sun was 
trying to rise ; a grand battle between light and 
darkness, between mists and sun, was silently 
fought before our wondering eyes. A tiny flash 
of light, then the sun, flushing pink, peeped over 
the edge of a thick cloud and suddenly disappeared 
again. The pale moon seemed fleeing from him, 
above the clouds that still hid the mountain's crest. 
A great blast from the north wind sent the mists 
flying before us like frightened ghosts. Where, all 
around us, had been darkness, mystery and cloud, 
now stood revealed the gray, bare mountainside, 
on which we stood. Green valleys, at least 5,000 
feet below, were now exposed to view. Blue 
mountains were before us, with snowy banks of 
cloud covers tucked in between their drowsy peaks. 
Just a glimpse of this glory was deigned us, then 
we were enveloped in the thick mist again— so 
thick the whole party could not be seen at once. 
Presently the sun peeped out for another moment, 
the mist curtain lifted, he disappeared, and the 
curtain fell. Perhaps half an hour this peek-a-boo 
battle continued, then the sun burst forth in splen- 



90 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

dour and the ghostly mists fled rapidly away from 
below and around us, but still concealed the moun- 
tain's top. 

When we reached timber line, we hastily de- 
voured a bit of lunch, while the horses were being 
saddled, and, tired and half disappointed, we 
drowsed most of the way back to Karuizawa, 
which we reached just at noon. For a whole week 
that storm-cloud hung over Mount Asama; then 
came a fair day and a new party to climb the 
mountain. This time our experiences were differ- 
ent. Just at sunset a sharp summer thunder-shower 
overtook us and we had the unusual experience of 
getting above it and watching it from above. Be- 
low and all about us was the glory of the electric 
flashes ; above us stars and a clear sky ! After an 
easy two hours' climb we rested peacefully in the 
crevice of the old crater. At four in the morning 
we made the final sprint for the crater ; this is the 
steepest part of the climb, but it is short. How 
shall I describe what we saw ? Deep down within 
the rough, riven, roasted, perpendicular, steaming 
walls were the awful, eternal, unquenchable fires 
burning. How far down ? No one seems to know. 
Our guide thought two hundred feet. One of the 
men of the party said five hundred. To me the 
shorter distance seemed more correct. Almost in 
the centre of this boiling, bubbling, sputtering mass 
of fire was a cone-shaped flue, pufiing out fire and 
black smoke (I read in a geography that volcanos 
never smoke, but steam, — perhaps so, but this was 



ASAMA, A JAPANESE VOLCANO 9J 

so black, it smoked), just as a giant locomotive puffs 
and strains to move a heavy train, only more so. 
The noise of it was greater than the roar of Niagara 
Falls. As we stood there, fascinated, a sudden pe- 
culiar, strong puff sent a small shower of hot cinders 
our way and we ran to the old crevice for shelter. 
It was only a little scare and in a few minutes we 
were laughing and joking over our lunch baskets. 
How soon one forgets danger ! 

A little before sunrise we went for another peep 
into the crater, when some one noticed, in the lift- 
ing of the steam, something white fluttering near 
the edge and opposite us. "Spirits," said the 
superstitious guides. " Steam," said the practical 
American. " A man," said one of the women. So 
off went an investigating committee and brought 
back — a man ! — a man who had ventured alone on 
this dangerous mountain two days before. He 
had lost his way, was hungry, cold and tired. In 
Swiss mountains such men are called "Mountain- 

scratchers," but in Japan ? This one was glad 

enough to become one of our party, to quit scratch- 
ing alone. 

Now it was sunrise. Grandly silhouetted against 
the southern sky, some eighty miles to the southwest, 
rose Mount Fuji's peerless cone, with the Koshu 
mountains nestling at his feet. Between them and 
us only the vast expanse of sleepy, billowy clouds ; 
— the earth had disappeared. All around on every 
horizon were great mountains, surrounded by the 
waking clouds. We seemed alone on an island. 



n LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

We had the peculiar sensation of a desire to walk 
on those clouds. Some of our party declared that 
beyond the mountains, in the east, they saw the 
blue Pacific. It could be so. 

When the sun was fully up, some of the party 
went exploring. On the south side of the volcano 
they found some great, perpendicular rocks, in 
upper and lower sections, with deep rifts between. 
These, they declared, were remains of old craters, 
from one of which had been belched forth that 
terrific lava stream previously visited by us. 

And now, though almost too sleepy to sit in the 
saddle, it was a happy, contented party that re- 
turned to Karuizawa that noon ; and some of the 
members were at play on the tennis courts before 
the day was over. 

I think no one has ever been actually lost on 
Mount Asama, though one missionary and several 
Japanese have been killed by hot rocks ejected as 
they stood on the crater's brink and tried to escape. 
The Japanese mythological god of wisdom, Fudo, 
is represented as a man surrounded by fire, and 
sometimes on the brink of Asama's crater are found 
the jackets of Japanese students, with notes saying 
they have offered themselves in sacrifice to the 
god within the burning mountain, in order to 
escape the trials of this life. Gossip says they 
have failed to pass their examinations. Cowards, 
they, to fail also in life ; do they think Fudo will 
accept such an offering ? 



PART TWO 
Life Sketches 



XI 

Yojiro, or the Old and the New Life 

IK the days of the Samurai, the two sworded 
soldiers of Japan, Yojiro, whose name means 
fourth son, lived as a boy. During his child- 
hood the breath of change was already in the air, 
and things were not just as they had been for 
centuries past. 

With indifferent demeanour, but with throbbing 
heart and quickening pulse, little Yojiro listened 
to the tales of the old men as they squatted around 
the open fireplace in the middle of the matted floor 
of the great kitchen of his father's house. Evening 
after evening they sat there smoking their thimble- 
bowled pipes of mild home grown tobacco, drinking 
innumerable tiny cups of strong, green tea — or 
stronger, steaming hot rice whiskey, and quietly, de- 
liberately, in true oriental fashion, discussing the 
strange times in which they lived. 

The aka-shige seyo-jin — the red, hairy Western 
barbarians, the Americans — stood at their country's 
door knocking for admission to trade, to coal their 
ships, to win protection to sailors unfortunate 
enough to be shipwrecked on Japan's unhospitable 
shores — and — what not? The requests seemed 

95 



96 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

simple and reasonable enough in themselves, they 
decided, but were they granted, how would it 
affect their country in years to come ? That was 
the question. Yet dare the Japanese refuse ? The 
whiskered foreigners came with gunboats more 
powerful than anything yet seen in Japanese 
waters. The American commander was very in- 
dependent — he would have nothing to do with 
them during one day of the week of his stay in the 
harbour — because it was the day of his God, But 
the Japanese said that was only an excuse — he 
really moved his ships back because he saw the 
thousands of paper fish of the fish festival careen- 
ing in the air, from their great bamboo poles, and 
he thought them war signals, "I shall expect a 
favourable answer when I come again," he said 
as he steamed away. So the old men of Yojiro's 
village — as in hundreds of other villages — discussed, 
but never settled the questions, Yojiro's early 
dreams were of the foreigners, and with his growth 
grew his ambition to see the strange people. 

Yojiro's father was head man of his village. He 
was chief archer to the feudal lord of his province, 
as well as a man of giant stature, for a Japanese, 
He was quite in favour of being friendly with the 
Westerners ; thinking, since they commanded such 
great boats, with such splendidly uniformed men, 
all boasting the great wealth of their native land, 
perhaps much gain might accrue to his beloved 
land, so long torn and impoverished by internal 
strife. 



YOJIRO, OR OLD AND NEW LIFE 97 

The years passed. Commodore Perry had re- 
turned and received the favourable answer he had 
expected. Five ports were opened to trade with 
foreign nations. Immediately after came a few 
pioneer missionaries. 

Yojiro, now great in stature like his father, but 
still in his teens, was given permission to go to 
Yokohama, the nearest of the five open ports, to 
see the foreigners. It was over three hundred 
miles away, but that was nothing to a strong, 
young Oriental with all his life before him. So one 
day, girding on his two swords, tucking up the 
skirts of his new silk kimono, tying the thongs of 
his new straw sandals, and taking a fu-ro-shi-ki (hand- 
kerchief) full of small things for the journey, he 
started to walk the distance, as had many an ambi- 
tious Japanese lad before him. The lure of the 
city is strong. 

Yojiro, being young and full of life, and with his 
father's good name to his credit, was not long in 
finding companions too gay for him. Even Sendai, 
only three days away from home, detained him a 
week, and received a goodly share of his father's 
copper cash. 

In this manner — having a gay time — he wandered 
on until when he reached Yokohama six weeks had 
passed. His cash and his credit were nearly gone. 
Amid the pleasures of the journey he had forgotten 
his ambition to see the foreigners. But it would 
never do to return home and announce failure. He 
must search for some little thing the Americans had 



9S LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

brougM to Yokohama to take home as a present to 
the folks there. 

What could he carry so far ? While he was 
searching the shops two Americans passed by ; so 
surprised was Yojiro that he stared outright at 
them, even forgetting the Japanese way of "tak- 
ing them all in " while seeming to see something far 
beyond them. 

Yes, indeed, they were tall, ugly and fierce look- 
ing with their tawny hair, green eyes, red cheeks and 
great whiskers. Such a contrast to the short, wiry, 
expressionless, black-haired, black-eyed, smooth- 
faced Japanese. ]^o wonder the little brown babies 
screamed at sight of them, They were exactly like 
the demons described in the Japanese fairy tales. 
Ah ! he was glad he had seen them. 

But the omiyagi (honourable home taking pres- 
ent), he must get that. After much search, trying 
to find something easily carried and within the 
means* of his now depleted purse, he finally dis- 
covered a little box he presumed was cake ; any- 
way it smelled good, it came from America and it 
cost only ten cash. By dickering with the clerk, as 
is their custom, he got it for five cash. Then, 
happy with his purchase, he started back home. 

When the prodigal arrived the neighbours all 
came in to hear of his adventures. His kind father 
began to pass the tea, cakes and liquor freely. 
ISTow was the time for the foreign treat. The 
neighbours were so many and the treat so small 
that it had to be passed in its own box, each man 



YOJIRO, OR OLD AND NEW LIFE 99 

taking a taste on the end of his chopsticks. " How 
delicious," " Ah, so this is foreign cake — um," " It is 
very rich ; no wonder the boxes are small " — were 
some of the expressions ; and the wanderer was 
flattered and complimented on his privilege of in- 
tercourse with foreigners. Many years afterwards 
Yojiro discovered he had fed his good neighbours a 
box of Mason's shoe blacking ! They survived 
— and happily for him they never knew. 

Then Yojiro was married to the young lady 
selected for him by his worthy parents ; and, as is 
their custom, the young folks lived in Yojiro's home 
with his parents. 

Then like the sudden earthquake shock, that 
leaves one's house and one's hopes in ruins, came the 
Japanese revolution, or war of restoration in 1868. 
Of those who suffered most from this was the 
Prince of Sendai. He was of the Shogun's clan ; 
and the Shogun, through whose influence the Ameri- 
cans had gained admission to Japan, lost out in the 
final strife. Consequently all the lords of his clan 
became the Emperor's prisoners. Their castles 
were destroyed, lands confiscated, and retainers de- 
prived of their two swords and dispersed. Their 
families henceforth were compelled to live in Tokyo 
under military supervision. 

Yojiro's father, left by this war without a prince 
or a master, soon became one of that great poor but 
proud and well-nigh helpless class so often met in 
the decades immediately following this great 
change. 



too LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

Yojiro's mother, a devout Buddhist, crushed with 
sorrow and poverty, still clung to the little spot of 
ground which had been given them by their prince. 
Though her little body was all bent with rheuma- 
tism she crept out to the tiny porch daily to clap 
her hands in worship of the sun as he chased away 
the shadows of the night. " All else in the world 
fails. O Tento Sama, the honourable sun, only is al- 
ways enduring, always true ; so we must honour her 
first, every morning," she said, and daily practiced 
many other acts of worship before breakfast. 

But Yojiro, young, strong, full of life and hope, 
untaught to work, became impatient of the worries 
and poverty at home and drifted south to the great 
cities again. He tried first to study medicine, then 
law, but finally, reckless of all save having a good 
time, spent his days sleeping and nights carousing. 
"What though his debts for Kquor, tobacco, geisha 
girls and dinners grew mountain high, the more 
fool the man who trusted him. What though once 
in a while a visitor from his own town brought a 
heart-breaking letter from his mother, now old be- 
yond her years, begging him to return and provide 
food for his wife and little daughters, and his nearly 
helpless mother ? 

What though his mother wrote, " I have mort- 
gaged our home to pay part of your debts," they 
were only women, and with an oriental scorn of 
womankind the letters were used as handkerchiefs, 
then tossed away — they might have been written 
to one born blind for ought Yojiro saw of his duty. 



YOJIRO, OR OLD AND NEW LIFE JOJ 

In her distress his mother finally sold their 
home and bought a tiny place in a poor village 
twenty miles down the river. " Here among 
strangers we will work like common people," she 
said, " and our friends will not be grieved by the 
sight of our poverty." Here the wife and little 
girls toiled in the garden, making it yield their food 
supply, while the crippled mother cared for the 
house and baby son, who had arrived soon after 
his father's last departure. The dwarfed mulberry 
trees that hedged in the little home fed hundreds 
of silkworms which every year sacrificed their 
helpless lives to clothe the growing family. But 
not in glossy silk were Yojiro's children clothed. 
Oh, no ; these snowy cocoons were taken to the city 
(carried in a bag on Mrs. Yojiro's back) and ex- 
changed for cheap cotton thread which she pa- 
tiently and artistically wove into a coarse gingham 
for the necessary kimonos. Sometimes only the 
warp was of the precious thread, while the woof 
was threads of tough rice fibre paper, cut and 
twisted by the skilKul hands of the little daughters. 
Paper is cheap and warm. 

During silkworm season Bo Chan, the baby 
boy, was often neglected ; he must get his meals 
whenever mother or granny had time to attend to 
him. The tiny worms on the trays in the warmest 
room in the house must be kept at an even temper- 
ature and must be fed the chopped mulberry leaves 
every two hours. The two little sisters must forget 
to play — they must keep busy picking and chop- 



J02 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

ping up the fresh leaves for the greedy wrigglers. 
Mother and granny were almost ceaselessly chang- 
ing the trays, removing the withered leaves, naked 
stems and refuse. A thousand baby worms on a 
tray make a great muss in two hours. You'd be 
surprised if you had never seen them ! And Yojiro's 
wife prided herself on having fifty trays at least. 
That many were necessary to clothe such a family. 

This little home of our story stood near the lower 
end of one of the many picturesque villages in 
JSTorthern Japan. Far in the western horizon 
stretched low green hills melting away into the 
misty evening mountains. To the east and south 
the morning sun peeped at the villagers over the 
pine clad tops of the low hills. Between these 
hills and a broad shimmering river to the north 
cuddled our tiny village. On the slopes of the 
southern hills and in the short fields at their base, 
in irregular checker-board fashion were the rice and 
barley paddies of the thrifty farmers. Happy and 
envied was the farmer who owned two or more 
acres ! 

The houses were uniformly made of sun-dried, 
mud walls, with straw roofs, and close by the 
houses were the vegetable gardens. The division 
fences were the dwarfed mulberry trees which pro- 
vided food for the silkworms — or sometimes a row 
of pulse or beans or buckwheat. Why spare land 
for a fence where food things will grow ? Usually 
these village farmers gloat over an abundant har- 
vest, but for two years now they had seen the 



YOJIRO, OR OLD AND NEW LIFE JOS 

splendid promise of spring fade and decay under 
the flooded waters of the treacherous river. Yet 
in this way their forefathers had often suffered, so 
these stoical farmers merely looked their trouble 
and said, " shikata ga nai " (no help). After saving 
what they could from the waters they began to 
weave straw sandals, to gather faggots from the 
hills, and to do what they could in order to live 
through the long snowy winter, hoping for better 
luck the next spring. Surely some one had of- 
fended the god of the river and when the guilty 
one saw the awful result of his offense he would 
make a great offering to appease the angry god 
and all would be well again. Indeed they would 
all be more zealous when the feast day of the river 
god came again. They would all be more careful 
not to neglect the god of the well, either, lest he 
tell on them. If any child looking down into a 
well to see his reflection in the water should throw 
stones down, or should spit in it, that child must 
endure torture many days. Too many lives were 
dependent on a good harvest in the spring. 

Now back to such a village, such a home and 
such a people came Yojiro after more than two 
years of life in the southern city. But Yojiro was 
a changed man. He was a Christian, and this is 
the way it happened. One day, still half asleep 
from the debauch of the previous night, Yojiro met 
an old friend who told him of the American's re- 
ligion and begged him to cease his wild life and 
become a new man in Christ. " Come with me," 



J04 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

he said, " to the missionary and learn all about it." 
Yojiro laughed, but being curious, the old longing 
to see foreigners conquered him, and he went with 
his friend. The missionary was teaching the Bible. 
Yojiro was made welcome. His interest in the 
new doctrine grew — and after several months he 
and some of the other men in the class were bap- 
tized. Yojiro let a year slip by before he ventured 
home with the good news. He wanted to prove 
himself — to recover something of what he had lost 
during his months of dissipation. The missionary 
was Dr. Yerbeck, one of the most honoured of 
Japan's pioneer missionaries. 

He found such peace and joy in his new religion 
that he was almost wild to tell it to the folks at 
home — then to the villages and towns all along the 
three hundred miles home. Yet he knew it meant 
privation, persecution and scorn. Even yet through 
all the land Christianity was called " The Evil 
Sect." " If the missionary can leave his own land 
so far away for Christ, should a big Japanese like 
me be less loyal ? " he reasoned. " No — I will go 
home and spend the rest of my life telling of this 
wonderful Saviour and His wonderful sacrifice for 
men." He had never written of his changed life, 
nor of his plan to return home, so no one was ex- 
pecting him. 

The sun had just dropped behind the western 
hills as Yojiro came up the path from the river. 
He smelled the shoyu (soy) and knew either mother 
or wife was getting the evening meal. How 



YOJIRO, OR OLD AND NEW LIFE JOS 

hungry he was ! It surprised him to know how he 
really longed for them all. He paused at the open 
shoji. Mother sat holding the little son he had 
never seen, teaching him a little rabbit song as she 
tried to throw a rabbit's shadow on the wall with 
her crippled old hands. And Bo Chan tried in his 
baby way to imitate her — much to the amusement 
of the two little girls who sat patiently and quietly 
awaiting their share of the supper. Wife was just 
lifting the heavy pot of boiled rice and barley from 
the crane over the fireplace in the kitchen floor. 
His heart sank as the thought flashed, " Perhaps 
they are too poor to have rice." A sense of the 
wrong he had done them so overwhelmed him for 
a moment that he unconsciously groaned. The 
sound startled them ; the eldest daughter sprang 
up, thinking to serve a customer to rice whiskey — 
for in his absence and their dire distress they had 
become liquor sellers. But when she saw his face 
she stopped. Granny, peering out in the darkness, 
recognized him. A mother's eyes — no matter how 
feeble they are, no matter how sin marks the face 
of her son — always knows him. " Yojiro — welcome 
home ! " she called, and hobbled over to help him 
untie his straw sandals, leaving Bo Chan to roll 
upon the floor. 

Wife set down the heavy pot and prostrating 
herself before him, echoed the mother's words, 
" You are welcome," — as she saw he came sober. 
Then she hastened for a dish of hot water and 
towel to bathe his travel-stained, weary feet. 



t06 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

But the little girls, remembering a father who had 
no love for girls — and who always came home to 
abuse them — tried to hide behind the mother's 
kimono sleeves, until assured by her there was no 
danger. Father was sober. 

The next day some of the neighbours, hearing of 
his return, called to see him, expecting a great treat 
to liquor. How disappointed they were when in- 
stead they heard the story of his conversion to 
Christ— and of his pleading for them. "He has 
eaten the American's rice, so of course he had to 
eat of his doctrine also, but he is crazy," they said, 
and went away. 

Yojiro knew his life must be his best sermon 
henceforth, so he took his wife's work in the gar- 
den, helped with the worms and cocoons in the 
house, and played with Bo Chan and the little 
girls when they had a moment's leisure. As he 
went to and fro through the village streets he 
preachjpd Jesus, and pled with those who came to 
visit him to listen and think. Soon the villagers 
saw the liquor shop closed. The children no more 
feared, but ran joyfully to greet him. The wife, 
so cross and bitter at first, gradually became quiet 
and sober. They also saw that the bent, little, old 
granny doubled her visits to the temple — doubled 
her offerings and her hours of prayer. She even 
hoarded her pennies to buy more idols for the 
Kamidana in the kitchen. " They are all crazy," 
said the villagers. 

At last the village gossips, unable longer to re 



YOJIRO, OR OLD AND NEW LIFE J07 

strain their curiosity, came to Yojiro's home. After 
the first greetings, and the drinking of their barley 
tea, they began, with many apologies. " Honourable 
wife," they said. " we have seen strange changes 
in this home ; we have heard strange words from 
your honourable husband ; and we have heard the 
bitter murmurings of the honourable old mother. 
"We are sorry for you. What is this mental illness 
your husband has ? Of course we are very rude to 
ask an explanation — but " 

Kefilling their cups of barley tea and offering 
them some dried persimmons, Mrs. Yojiro sat 
wearily back upon her heels and sighed as she be- 
gan her story. " You have not been sleeping, I see. 
You are right ; husband is a changed man." " Yes," 
interrupted one who loved her pipe, "he doesn't 
even smoke a guest pipe any more — nor (with a 
questioning glance) do you ? " 

"It is a long story. Before we came to this 
village, as you know, husband had gone to the 
southern city. For over two years we neither saw 
him nor had word from him ; but he was a man 
who loved liquor and sinful pleasures — who had 
frequently been intoxicated at home and had abused 
us all — and such a life he lived. We grew so poor 
that mother and I began to sell liquor. As you 
know we became our own best customers ; and our 
trouble and our poverty grew until I often longed 
for death. But a few months ago husband came 
home, — sober." " Ah," — " So so," — " Indeed ! " ex- 
claimed the listeners. " ' Mother, wife,' said he, 



JOS LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

* we are great sinners ; we must put all the sak§ 
(liquor) and tobacco out of the house ; it is unclean. 
"While in the city this time I became a Christian. 
You, also, must become Christians. "We must edu- 
cate our children as Christians.' You may well 
believe I was surprised. Have you ever heard any 
good of Yaso-kyo (Christianity) ? I had not ; and 
though a wife is supposed to give unquestioning 
obedience to her husband, the liquor had so hard- 
ened me that in great anger I mocked and scorned 
him. I refused to give up selling and drinking the 
sake. ' What shall we do if we give up this busi- 
ness ? ' I asked. ' How will we live ? The hon- 
ourable husband is never at home to attend to the 
farm ; the little girls are too small ; the honourable 
husband's expenses alone are more than the one 
acre farm can pay ; I will not give it up,' I said. 

" Oh, I realize now how true is the proverb, ' First 
the man takes a drink, then the drink takes a drink, 
then the drink takes the man — and all he owns.' 
For part of our farm went for his drink before we 
began to sell sake. "With many more words I 
scorned him many times ; and his mother felt as I 
did. But he knew it was the drink that maddened 
us ; he was sober and patient and kind. He emptied 
the liquor into the river. ' I shall lose the money,' 
he said, ' but no man shall lose his soul again be- 
cause of me — God help me.' He sold his silk gar- 
ments, put on cotton ones, began to clean up the 
yard, repair the flood-damaged house and prepared 
the ground for the new crops. Stranger than this. 



YOJIRO, OR OLD AND NEW LIFE J09 

he read daily out of the Kirisuto kyo seisho (the 
Bible) and he was often in prayer — not the kind of 
prayers the priests chant, but heart talks. He 
took down the idols and ancestral tablets from the 
Kamidana and burned them, much to his mother's 
consternation and mine. Never in all our lives had 
we heard of such a rash act. Surely all the gods 
would be offended; surely our ancestors would 
haunt and curse us ; but he said, ' No fear, the true 
God whom he worshipped was the Creator, and 
more powerful than all, and He would help us.' 
Then the old mother in her rage besought the help 
and prayers of the priests. Isn't it sad ? The poor 
thing is hardly able to hobble, her rheumatism is 
so bad, and we are so poor ; but she gives her old 
keepsakes to the priests, begging them to pray more 
and more earnestly, for ' the fox god has surely be- 
witched her son.' 

" Well, after many days, listening to his reading, 
his prayers, and pondering on his changed life, I 
gradually gave up drinking and the use of liquor 
in our food. Indeed that was a struggle. We 
women can scarcely make food palatable without 
the liquor flavour ; but he would eat none of that ; 
so finally I gave it up too. Next he insisted that I 
learn to read — he would teach me ! Now aren't 
you astonished ? I was. I, a woman above thirty, 
learn to read ? (Few women of any age at that 
time learned to read.) 

" But husband had become so helpful and kind to 
me I decided to yield to his whim, and after many 



no LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

discouraging nights of study, I can say I can read 
a little in his Bible. 

" Then I must pray as he did — not the constant 
repetition of * Namu Amida Butsu ' a thousand 
times as the Buddhist, nor the set ritual of the 
Shintoist ; but just heart talks to the ever present, 
invisible God. But when he prayed aloud, teaching 
the children and me, his mother hurried, screaming, 
from the house. If mother would only listen and 
put on Christ also, our home would be completely 
happy. You all think him crazy ; but it is not so ; 
those who do not know are crazy. Our daily prayer 
is that this whole village may soon become ' Chris- 
tian.' " 

" But," said one old gossip, " you and the chil- 
dren are again working in the field and the honour- 
able master is away as before ? " 

" That is because the people of this village will 
not listen to him, so he goes to other villages, to 
the city, even to the governor of our province, tell- 
ing only the Jesus story. The little ones and I are 
glad to work now, so he can tell the story abroad. 
Last year's end we could not pay up all our bills, so 
another little patch of our ground was taken away ; 
because, as is the custom of our country, you know, 
we must begin the new year out of debt. A few 
years ago it went for drink ; but now it goes to the 
Lord, we say, and we are not troubled, because the 
Bible says, ' The Lord will provide.' How, we 
cannot say, but we hope and work and pray. 

" Perhaps you don't know when the flood came last 



YOJIRO, OR OLD AND NEW LIFE Ut 

spring that part of our land went for barley and 
rice for those who lost everything, 

" Perhaps you don't know that it was husband's 
talk with the governor that secured the splendid 
levee which now protects us and gave work to your 
men in their most needy time. 

" Now, won't you tell in the village how wonder- 
ful is the Jesus doctrine ; how it saves men and 
homes ? " 

The old gossips, with many bows, departed, 
chattering like a lot of magpies. " Omishiroi, 
fushigi " (interesting). " Wonderful," said one. 
" Uso " (lies), said another. " Kikitai " (I wish to 
hear), said a third. 

Their report to the villagers furnished talk 
around the fireplaces for many days thereafter. 
Some listened thoughtfully, some mocked, others 
said, " But the priests say, ' Yaso Kyo is all bad ; ' 
and has any one heard of our Emperor accepting the 
foreigner's religion ? Time enough to consider it 
when he does." 

Gradually there grew up in Yojiro's house a 
little group of men who were glad to hear his 
strange story of a strange God whose name and 
nature (strange thought to a heathen) is Love. 
These were the foundation of the future church 
there. 

This was twenty years ago. Yojiro is still 
preaching earnestly and is as self-sacrificing as be- 
fore. As he ffrows older he works more in the 



ni LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

large cities, leaving the village itinerating to young 
men who are his sons in the Gospel — his " Timothys 
and Tituses," he lovingly calls them. 

In those early years of the struggle, after his 
little farm was completely covered by mortgages in 
his zeal to preach ceaselessly the Gospel, Yojiro first 
began to doubt his Lord. " The Lord will provide," 
" They who preach the Gospel shall live of the 
Gospel," he pondered over and over again. " All 
the other promises are fulfilled ; why not these ? " he 
questioned. 

And lest his zeal was not sufficient he toiled, and 
prayed and wept night and day with his indifferent 
countrymen. Yet his family increased in numbers 
and his income dwindled. The children must be 
educated ; but how ? 

Suddenly, one day, as he agonized in prayer over 
this problem, he heard the street children shout, 
" Seyo jin, seyo jin " (foreigner), and immediately he 
knew iiis prayer was to be answered. Almost for- 
getting to say " Amen," he rushed to the street — 
and there up from the boat landing, escorted by 
nearly all the men, women and children of the 
village, came a tall, thin, ruddy foreigner, with a 
knapsack on his back and woraji (straw sandals) on 
his feet. 

They had never met before, but now they em- 
braced as brothers. 

Of course he was a missionary. Yojiro knew no 
other foreigner would discover such a Nazareth as 
that poor village. 



YOJIRO, OR OLD AND NEW LIFE U3 

The missionary, endeavouring to preach in every 
village in Northern Japan, had for the past several 
weeks been hearing of " Yojiro the Yaso man," and 
his good work and had now come to join forces 
with him. 

" He was truly an angel of the Lord to me and 
mine," said Yojiro. 

As the missionary sat on the edge of Yojiro's lit- 
tle porch unfastening his straw sandals the villagers 
gathered around him until he looked out over al- 
most a sea of heads ; but the crowd was silent. 
There was not a whisper as they took him all in. 
He was the first person from a foreign land they 
had ever seen. When the sandals were off, he 
stood in the doorway, stooping, lest he bump his 
head, he was so tall, and spoke to them saying, " I 
have no new tale to tell ; but I have walked many 
miles to tell you the words you have heard from 
Yojiro are true." 

Then he talked to them an hour longer, and a 
few lingered to hear " more of the Jesus doctrine," 
while the others crept softly away to their homes. 

Yojiro's wife now served them with hot boiled 
rice, river fish soup, and tea. That night Yojiro 
was too happy to sleep, he was so impressed that 
his prayers — even the ones wherein he doubted — 
were answered. 

From this pioneer missionary, whose knapsack 
contained Bibles, tracts, and other soul food — not 
the bread that perisheth — Yojiro learned many 
things. 



iH LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

For three days they worked together in Yojiro's 
village ; then Yojiro went with the missionary to 
Tokyo to meet other missionaries, and to learn 
methods of Christian work, to learn the meaning 
of the promises he did not understand — and that 
those who become Christians are responsible for the 
financial support of the minister who brings to them 
" The Pearl of Greatest Price." He learned that 
because of the newness of Christianity in Japan, 
and because of its ignorance of Christian methods 
and its supposed poverty, and because, in gratitude 
for their own salvation, the Christians of Europe 
and America give to those in Asia — until these in 
Asia, in turn, shall be able to gladly give to others 
still beyond. After all it is merely lending to the 
Lord, for in time of course the Japanese Christians 
will pass this blessing on to Formosa, Korea, Man- 
churia, China and Tibet (unless these lands shall 
surprise them by becoming Christian first). 

SurjHfised, humbled and deeply grateful that his 
family would be cared for while he worked, Yojiro 
went joyfully back to his village with his good 
news. His good wife lessened not her labours, 
though her heart was lightened and her faith 
strengthened. And one day, while she was visit- 
ing in the missionary's home in order to learn from 
the missionary's wife some of the ways of Chris- 
tian womanhood — and the care and nurture of 
little children — the tall missionary had the pleas- 
ure of baptizing her in the Pacific Ocean, near 
beautiful Sendai Bay. 




>^ 



YOJIRO, OR OLD AND NEW LIFE U5 

It was a glad day for her, soon after this, when 
the two eldest daughters were sent to the city to 
enter a Christian school. One of these — some 
years later — became matron of a Christian girls' 
school in which her two younger sisters were 
teachers. During summer vacations they returned 
to their village in the far north to teach the women 
there the blessed story of Christ and His love for 
women — even the lowliest. And not only in their 
own village alone, but even in the cities have they 
" witnessed for Christ." Yojiro's dream that, like 
the Apostle Philip, he would have " four daughters 
who will prophesy," seems almost a reality now — 
since three are in the work, and three still in Chris- 
tian schools. 

When Yojiro's house became too small to hold 
all who attended the Christian meetings, plans 
were laid for a Christian chapel. This the villagers 
helped build, each man helping with material or 
labour. Though it cost less than $200.00 it is the 
best building in the village, and is used for all good 
meetings, even for the village councils. 

But the hard working, patient mother of Yojiro's 
nine children did not live to enjoy such blessings. 
While the older daughters were still schoolgirls, 
her work-worn fingers became still. One autumn 
just as the rice harvest had been gathered, when 
the hillsides were glorified by the dying maple 
leaves, when the clack, clack of the shuttle should 
announce that the fall weaving had begun — the 
shuttle hung threadless ; the loom was silent. The 



U6 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

birth cry of a new-born son was the last sound of 
this earth to that mother. Glories greater than the 
hillside maples were hers that day — and pain and 
toil had passed away. 

Reverently, and in sorrow because they would 
miss her, the whole village saw the form they had 
learned to love laid away — outside the Buddhist 
burial ground. She was the Jlrst Christian to die 
in that village. And her death brought other 
women closer to Christ. Her life spelled Victory. 

In time another woman, who might have married 
a rich rice merchant, came to be the mother of 
Yojiro's children. A wonderfully consecrated 
woman is she, preferring a life of toil and skimp- 
ing, and the care of another woman's nine children, 
in a Christian minister's home, to a life of ease in 
a heathen one. Such a woman is rare in an un- 
christian land. Only the Gospel makes such women. 

The missionary who came to Yojiro at such an 
opportune time was Charles E. Garst. He also 
rests from his strenuous labours. His work still 
lives in the lives of the Japanese who learned of 
Christ from him. Some of these men are in Japan's 
Parliament, using Christian influence in the new 
laws of the land. Wonderful was his work as a 
pioneer of the Christian Church. Kever since his 
day has there been a man among us who has gone 
through all the villages and towns of North Japan, 
preaching, teaching, helping, exhorting, instruct- 
ing in material things also as well as spiritual as 
did Charles E. Garst. Never has there been one 



YOJIRO, OR OLD AND NEW LIFE U7 

so universally beloved. When he died something 
went out of Yojiro's life that nothing can replace. 
These two were brothers in deed and in truth. 
Though Yojiro works as zealously as before, yet 
his thoughts are very often on the time when he 
shall see " Brother Garst " again. 

The little old grandmother — ^poor soul — she could 
not, or would not understand the new religion. 
She clung to her idols and her superstitions to the 
last. She even went to live in the temple, cutting 
off her gray hair, and offering it as a pledge of her 
faithfulness forever. Her few dresses (kimonos) and 
keepsakes, reminders of happier, wealthier days, 
were given to the temple with the prayer that they 
might be a propitiation to the gods not to punish 
her by making her a beast in her next incarnation 
for having borne a son who became such a Chris- 
tian. Though she could not know, nor understand, 
because " the god of this world had darkened her 
mind " — such men as Yojiro are the hope of the 
nation as well as the Church. 



XII 



The Old Man and His Idol 



M 



RS. MISSIONARY, come here and 
meet this old man, please. He was 
baptized last Sunday," I was sitting 
on the floor in the preacher's house (which was 
also the chapel) in a Japanese inland town. We 
were to have a woman's meeting. I had told them 
I wanted to meet the women. But you never can 
tell what kind of a meeting you will have in Japan. 
Now the room was filling with men and boys, as 
well as women, and I must change my carefully 
prepared woman's talk to fit that crowd — I had 
had that experience before. It was the Japanese 
preacher in charge of this district who had called 
to me— rhimself a bright young man only four years 
out of heathenism. So excusing myself to the 
women I went across the room to the men's side. 
The preacher introduced me saying, " You are the 
ji/pst white woman this grandfather has seen. He 
always comes to hear Mr. Missionary preach, and, 
to-day, when he should have been working in his 
garden, he walked several miles to be at this meet- 
ing." Of course I praised his devotion, and, apolo- 
gizing for my faulty Japanese, said he must pre- 
pare for disappointments. He said, " I can under- 
stand you, and that is all that is necessary." 

118 



THE OLD MAN AND HIS IDOL U? 

Then the minister said, " Here is something he 
brought for you" — and he handed me a little, 
smoke-blackened, clay image of a man sitting on 
two bags of rice, with another bag on his back. He 
was about four inches high. I knew the old fellow. 
I had seen hundreds, perhaps thousands, just like 
him in Japan. They call him Daikoku, the rice 
god — god of wealth — one of the seven gods of luck 
or happiness. " This grandfather wishes me to tell 
you that he has been so ignorant and so foolish as 
to worship this very thing over forty years,^^ said 
the preacher. " It was gilded when he bought it 
from the priest and placed it on the god-shelf in 
his kitchen. See how the smoke of the fireplace 
all those years has blackened it. That is just like 
the old man's experience. When he bought it he 
was young and hopeful. He believed the supersti- 
tions of the priests. He believed faithfulness to 
this thing would bring him good harvests and make 
him rich. But as the smoke dimmed its gold, so 
disappointment and care dimmed his faith, and 
while he worshipped this he became poorer finan- 
cially and more hopeless and restless spiritually." 

" Yes," said the old man, " that is all true. 
Kow I have destroyed all my idols — I even threw 
this one away on the trash pile, but the preacher 
hunted it out, suggesting I give it to you. We 
want you to take it to America and show the Chris- 
tians there what I and my people have worshipped 
and prayed to ; tell your people there are thousands 
of men in my country to-day worshipping as fool- 



no LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

ishly and as hopelessly as I did. Tell them I was 
baptized, I and my grown son together ; we are 
very happy now ; we have a great peace we never 
knew before. Tell your people to send more 
preachers soon — and can't you come often to our 
town to teach our women ? Tell them salvation is 
for them as well as for men — it isn't in Buddhism, 
you know." 

The room was quite full now, sixty people having 
crowded themselves in and seated themselves on 
their own feet, on the poorly matted floor. 

It was my first trip to that town — and I was 
actually ashamed of such a place for a Christian 
meeting. (I've been ashamed of many more like it 
since.) We singf " My Father is rich in houses and 
lands," etc., but we act as if He had left His children 
beggars when we meet in such places for worship. 
As soon as I returned home I sent a table-cloth and 
napkins for the Lord's Table. And when I spoke 
to the man missionary about repairing the house he 
said, " The funds we receive from America will not 
permit it yet. When that congregation numbers a 
dozen they will be able to get into a better place." 

It was not long — perhaps three years — after this 
when these people, about forty of them now Chris- 
tians, were meeting in their own neat little chapel. 
The old man who had given me his idol had gladly 
given a large sum (for so poor a Japanese) towards 
it — and from this church have come some splendid 
women workers. 



XIII 
Shizu, or Leaving Her Loom 

SHIZU was a weaving girl. From early morn 
until welcome nightfall could be heard the 
clack, clack, clack of her shuttle, as it rushed 
back and forth at her bidding. Her head, hands 
and bare feet all kept time with the shuttle. Her 
feet worked the treadles of the heavy, clumsy hand 
loom, her hands pulled the cord that sent the bat- 
ting crowding the last thread of the woof against 
its neighbour, and her head just kept time with it 
all because the other motions of her body com- 
pelled it to. 

There was just one room in Shizu's straw-roofed 
home — one room and a tiny shed kitchen. The 
mud box fireplace nearly filled the shed, the loom 
nearly filled the one room and only one thought 
nearly filled Shizu's life ; that was to weave as much 
cloth in one day as her strength would allow, for, 
at best, by working every day, including Sundays 
(most of Japan knows no Sunday), Shizu could make 
but four (Japanese) dollars a month at weaving 
gingham, and seldom more than six dollars when 
there was a call for her own pretty fancy silk 
weaves. 

Shizu had never heard of eight hours for a day's 
121 



J22 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

work. The custom of her country is from daylight 
till dark — and Shizu followed the custom of her 
country — as most women do. 

Shizu's mother, a woman about sixty, lived with 
her. When Shizu must stop to eat her bits of barley 
and radish — they were too poor to buy rice and 
fish — the old mother took her place at the loom. 
So the clack, clack, clack of the shuttle went steadily 
on, stopping only when a tiny thread broke, or a 
spool must be renewed, or one piece was completed, 
or when darkness kindly threw its mantle over 
loom and lassie, and forced them to slumber. Some 
one else lived in Shizu's home, also, — a little niece 
four years old, a bright, merry, helpful child; a 
burden, yet a joy ; a burden because there was so 
>ittle to eat — a joy because of her merry heart and 
tv^inning ways. Her widowed mother was away in 
a great city, caring for herself and sending back a 
dollar a month for the support of the child. 

For six years Shizu had been a weaver. Some- 
times work was plenty ; sometimes there was none. 
Even when the demand was greatest only a certain 
amount could possibly be done each day — so they 
remained poor. 

During the sixth year of her weaving Shizu 
began to have day-dreams. She was eighteen now. 
Ten years ago a strange woman had visited her 
town, teaching a strange religion. Shizu had not 
seen her. Some of the neighbours, dropping in to 
gossip, had told the mother " That American 
woman is a large woman, larger than many of our 



SHIZU, OR LEAVING HER LOOM J23 

men. She has red hair and green eyes, and a red 
face — just like the demons in our story books. The 
little children cried in fright when she tried to 
fondle them. She wore leather shoes and walked 
with long strides like a man — not with the toed-in 
shuffle of a Japanese lady — and she wore the 
queerest thing on her head ! It was made of straw, 
with silk and flowers bunched up on it — but the 
flowers were artificial — the hotel girl had examined 
it to find out while the foreign lady slept. Wasn't 
it strange she should wear a thing like that — for all 
the world like a clown in a temple parade or a 
theatre advertiser. How diffeTent American women 
must be to think one's hair and a parasol were 
not covering enough ! But anyway, she had a 
wonderfully gentle voice. She talked fearlessly 
with learned men, too. She sang strange songs to 
them — songs about a God who loves men and 
women. She spoke in their own language, though 
she had been but a few years in Japan. American 
women must be very clever to be able to speak and 
sing in languages different from their own — and so 
that m,en will listen to them. Yet there was one 
thing stranger yet. Old man Sato, you know, had 
given his baby girl to this woman — this foreign 
woman — to keep. Every one knew old man Sato 
as one of the most shiftless men in town, and his 
baby was the raggedest, dirtiest, most vermin-in- 
fested, eczema-scarred child that played on the 
streets. She had no mother, poor child — but what 
would that American woman do with her ? That 



J24 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

was the great question," and so the old cronies 
rattled on over their thimbleful pipes of home- 
grown tobacco and their tiny cups of barley tea — 
for even in the poorest home hospitality is a born 
necessity. 

That had been ten years ago, yet Shizu remem- 
bered it well to-day. To-day the tongues of the 
gossips were wagging again, for Jo Sato had re- 
turned ', all the town knew it ! The same American 
woman, about to return to her own country, had 
brought Jo back. 

In the ten years while Jo was away every one 
seemed to have forgotten her. . Shizu had — for in 
those days Shizu had been a merry schoolgirl — 
one of the first in that mountain-hidden town 
where most every one declared " girls couldn't 
learn, they hadn't any brains." Shizu had been 
eager to prove them wrong — then after a few 
short terms she was compelled to take her place at 
the loom and her dreams — well, she had ceased to 
dream. 

But now — what were the gossips saying ? "Jo 
can read and write Japanese, Chinese and English ! 
Think of it ! Jo can paint water colours too ; she 
can sew and embroider ; she can cook delicious 
things ; she can cook things the Americans eat also. 
Did you know they eat wheat bread instead of rice ? 
— and Jo can make that. Jo has good clothes, she 
has the manners of a lady, she can earn money 
honestly^ and she has returned to support and care 
for her old, shiftless, homeless father. And with 



SHIZU, OR LEAVING HER LOOM J25 

Jo came another girl. Both are Christians. They 
will have a school where little girls can be 
taught the things they have learned. Jo can 
knit and crochet ; she can nurse the sick." In 
fact Jo's accomplishments grew with the telling 
— an earthquake would hardly have so shaken the 
town as had this wonderful transformation of Jo 
Sato. 

All the girls who could flocked to Jo's house to 
see — and some to learn — and some to envy. When 
her weaving day was over Shizu, too, walked the 
weary blocks to Jo's home to see, to hear, then to 
plan and to dream again. And so it was in her 
sixth weaving year Shizu wove such dreams into 
her cotton and her silk as the wearers of it never 
imagined existed in any Japanese girl's heart. 

Jo worked hard, cared for her father, taught the 
girls and children as she could for two years. Then 
the father died, and Jo, her filial duty fully done, 
went away across the beautiful mountains and out 
into the world again, where was a larger oppor- 
tunity for honest living. 

The burden of Shizu's dreams now was, " Why 
can't I, too, find an American woman who will teach 
me the useful things Jo Sato knows ? " Through 
Jo's teaching and her friend's Shizu had already 
become a Christian, and her almost hourly prayer 
was, " Dear Lord, give me the chance to learn all 
those things. I will become a slave if necessary — 
and when I have learned I will spend my life 
teaching the girls and women of my country — for, 



J26 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

oh, Lord, we need to know how to work and how 
to love ; we need Thy love." 

* -Sf -Sf- * * * 

One morning the loom was silent ; the kindly, 
gossipy neighbours came in to inquire if Shizu was 
out of thread, or had finished a new piece — or 
what ? The old mother sat at the loom arranging 
the coarsest of cotton threads — her weak eyes re- 
fused any other. The little niece was in tears in 
the corner, crying silently as though older than her 
years. Shizu was gone ! 

She had heard that another missionary lived be- 
yond the mountains, and she could not rest, but 
must go and see if her dreams might come true. 
She must learn. Then she would return and care 
for the old mother. "Well," said the mother, 
" she has gone, and it cannot be helped." 

IS'ever was there such an ambitious student. 
Working as a house maid Shizu began her studies 
at night. Her teacher was a twelve-year-old neigh- 
bour girl. Her lesson hours were from nine to 
twelve at night. Oh, how hard it was to study, 
after so many years of brain idleness — and when 
her tired body was crying for sleep ! Hardest of 
all it was to be scolded next day by the mistress 
for seeming carelessness — while all the time her 
mind was on those awful Chinese characters in the 
reader last night. How were they formed ? A 
dot, a square, or a horizontal line first ? Would 
she ever learn ? Yes, she would, she must. 

" Shizu," said the mistress one day, " since you 



SHIZU, OR LEAVING HER LOOM J27 

have nothing to do after eight o'clock would you 
like to hemstitch some handkerchiefs for me ? 
After you can do them neatly I will pay you for 
them and this extra money can be sent to your 
mother. I wiU get my friends to order some too." 

Poor Shizu, what should she do in the face of so 
great a temptation ? Should she confess the lessons 
and refuse the extra work ? Kot yet. She took 
the handkerchiefs. She would try to do them 
while reciting. 

All went well for a while ; then after an un- 
usually stupid blunder, the mistress said, " Shizu, 
you act like a girl who hasn't enough sleep ; tell 
me, how do you spend your evenings? You 
mustn't let the handkerchiefs keep you up. . . . 
I have noticed the neighbour girl. Koto, coming 
over after supper ; I shall forbid her coming if she 
is keeping you from your sleep. From to-night 
you must be in bed at nine o'clock. I am telling 
you this for your own good. JN^o girl can become 
a first-class servant unless she sleeps well. You 
need fully eight hours of sleep. The work in this 
house is so different from anything you ever had be- 
fore that it is hard. You must get lots of sleep to 
keep up your strength." Silently Shizu listened, 
then as soon as possible went to her own room for 
a good cry. She knew the mistress was right, but, 
oh, she didn't always want to be a servant. She 
wanted to study here until she could pass the 
entrance examination into the Christian Girls' 
School. Should she explain it all to the mistress ? 



J28 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

She decided to wait till Koto came that evening 
and hear what she suggested. 

At half-past nine the mistress, wishing to know 
if she was being obeyed, and having a strong sus- 
picion that she was not, quietly slipped down- 
stairs. A light shone through the paper partition 
between Shizu's room and the kitchen. The mis- 
tress called " Gonen nasai ! " (excuse me) at the 
door, sliding it open, Japanese fashion, as she called. 
Two startled girls looked up from the pages of the 
" Third Reader " lying open on the matted floor — 
the look of surprise changing to one of dumb plead- 
ing on Shizu's face — of merriment on Koto's. For 
the Japanese love the comic — and here was Shizu 
in a predicament ! Then the whole story came out 
— the weaving — the dreams — Jo Sato — the second 
start up the hill of knowledge. 

After a long, sympathetic talk with the girls, the 
mistress returned to her own room — to lose some of 
her precious sleep in prayers and plans for this 
ambitious girl. Soon the household duties were 
lightened so that Shizu could study with a happy 
heart. Soon a scholarship was obtained for her 
from America. Soon she passed the examination, 
and, though much older than her classmates in the 
mission school, soon made rapid progress in her 
studies. In the meantime she was given a class to 
teach in the Sunday-school. On holidays and dur- 
ing rest hours she hemmed handkerchiefs, cro- 
chetted lace, purses, and doilies to pay for the 
organ lessons unprovided by her scholarship — and 



SHIZU, OR LEAVING HER LOOM J29 

after five years of this earnest preparation she 
graduated and became a Bible woman. Then the 
old mother, too, left the old loom and with the 
little niece came to make a home for them in the 
busy city — and soon she became a Christian. Are 
there any sick, or troubled or distressed ? Shizu is 
the first one to know it. Shizu is " a pillar in the 
house of her God." And still in Shizu's land are 
thousands of girls and women treading their strength 
out at the loom — treading in their minds the old, 
narrow, superstitious, gossipy lives of their moth- 
ers — but among them are ambitious Shizus. Who 
is to make their dreams come true ? 



XIY 
The Unfinished Story 

WHEN Nebuchadnezzar was King in 
Babylon and Daniel was his prophet- 
prisoner, Jimmu Tenno, Japan's first 
Emperor, sailing from the southern island, landed a 
fleet of conquering warriors at the little village of 
Naniwa, now Osaka. Osaka Bay is so land-locked 
the white surf breaks in nearly a circle ; hence the 
old name, Naniwa, a wreath of waves. When good 
King Arthur reigned in Britain, the Emperor 
Nintoku made Osaka his capital city. When 
Columbus was discovering America, the famous 
Buddhist abbot Renno discovered the prosperous 
city, Osaka, and made it a Buddhist stronghold. 
How different would have been history if Columbus 
had realized his dreams of reaching India via 
Japan, before Renno found Osaka ! The city's 
name was changed from Naniwa to Osaka, " Great 
Hill," because its greatest and oldest temple, 
Shitennoji, usually written Tennoji, stands on its 
highest hill. For centuries and centuries the 
temple's mammoth pagoda has been a famous land- 
mark. 

When Raleigh was trying to colonize Virginia, 
Hideyoshi, Japan's Napoleon, was building in 

130 



THE UNFINISHED STORY J3J 

Osaka the grandest castle Japan ever had. When 
Perry opened Japan's eyes to see the rest of the 
world, Osaka was the first city to capture Western 
industrialism, the first to have a Luna Park, with 
its great electric tower and hysterics producing ac- 
companiments. Ever since IS^aniwa became Osaka, 
poetry and art sought more congenial surroundings, 
and riches, prosperity, pride and pleasure have had 
the throne. To-day Osaka's factories rival those of 
America and the Continent, until it is almost ut- 
terly impossible to find an American made article 
in the city. Osaka's people number nearly two 
millions, increasing at about fifty thousand a year. 
In Osaka almost everything is manufactured from 
pins to pianos, candy, cosmetics, carpets and can- 
non, and so on ad infinitum. 

Except for a brief space on the rapidly building 
up south, the great, gray, centuries old pagoda is 
almost obscured by the forest of tall factory 
chimneys and the eternal cloud of smoke that hangs 
like a pall over the city. During the Spanish- 
American war^ missionaries of the Church of Christ 
ji/rst came to Osaka. 

In this old, old city and this new, new city, the 
war of change, the conflict of customs is constantly 
waging ; the new against the old. Naturally to 
study and to develop these wonderful "Western in- 
dustries, the men of Osaka went abroad, all over 
the world, in thousands. The women stayed at 
home. To-day we see the master of the house 
with that " fine tailored look " going to his office in 



J32 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

his private, rubber- tired jinrikisha and his employees 
riding to their work in the latest electric trams. 
He has his Western lunch at a Western restaurant at 
noon, down-town, and about four o'clock returns to 
his home. Here, immediately, " with his Western 
clothes off and his kimono on, now he's himself, this 
Japanese man." He is now back into the far gone 
centuries of his ancestors. 

To the shame of Christian nations, but few of the 
thousands of men who learned the Westerner's busi- 
ness abroad learned his religion also. The customs 
of the Japanese man's home, the ideals of his heart, 
the religions of his house are those of the long ago, 
" When Knighthood was in Flower." The roots of 
his proud old family tree go back, far back into the 
dim past. He is an Occidental in world competi- 
tion and politics, " for revenue only." In all else he 
is a proud Oriental, loving perfumed ease, pleasure, 
poetry and the occult philosophies of an ancient 
East. " 

In the heart of Osaka is a large, beautiful garden. 
Only the tops of tall trees, like guardian sentinels, 
peep over the great, gray wall that surrounds it. 
Only when the massive gray gates are swung open 
for some very special occasion can one glimpse its 
wonderful beauty, and the fine old mansion within. 
Only after such a glimpse is Eden realized and also 
the meaning of " and the gates were shut." 

One day, in my time, this grand old mansion was 
put in festive attire. All the beautiful, shining, 



THE UNFINISHED STORY J33 

soft padded matting was new, all the silken floor 
cushions remade, all the shoji freshly covered with 
soft, creamy, semi-transparent rice paper ; all the 
sacred alcoves of the peaceful rooms decorated with 
centuries old heirlooms. In their proper places the 
most aristocratic flower artist in the city had left 
" charming creations " of pine, plum and bamboo 
wedding emblems, whose subtle fragrance added to 
the dreamlike " feel " of the rooms. 

All the servants, men and maids, were dressed in 
fine new kimonos. The master sat in stiff est, finest 
of silks and the mistress was beside him in inde- 
scribable soft, dainty gray crepes and a gold em- 
broidered obi. Yes, even the master's concubines 
were there too, and in crepes which rivalled those 
of the mistress. The bridegroom, with the go-be- 
tween, waited, but in a room by themselves. All 
waited, as only an Oriental can wait, in unconcerned 
calm, on unmoveable muscles. 

From the street came the shout of merry chil- 
dren's voices, " The bride, the bride," and swift, 
down the expectant street, accompanied by the 
shouting, dancing children of the neighbourhood, 
and swift through the wide open welcoming gates 
came the wedding procession. There were bearers 
of trays, bearers of treasure chests, bearers of tall 
chests-of-drawers, bearers of the long cedar bridal 
chests, bearers of boxes, bearers of all things a Jap- 
anese bride must bring her husband, be he ever so 
rich, and all were covered by handsome blue cloths, 
on which the family crest was embroidered in gold. 



J34 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

All the bearers were dressed in the uniform of a 
century ago. ITear the end of the procession the 
bride herself, riding in her closed sedan, was borne 
on the strong shoulders of four sturdy men. The 
soft pat, pat of their cloth shod feet kept time to the 
fluttering heart of this new little bride to be. The 
children stood in awe outside the gates, and, shortly, 
the gates were shut. 

Twenty-two years ago, in a town near Osaka, 
lived a rice merchant and a clog maker, side by side. 
The families were friends. They were Buddhists 
of the same temple; their ancestral trees were 
rooted in the same far-off past. The rice merchant 
was fairly rich. The wooden shoemaker was 
hardly comfortable. There were several children 
in both families, but one year a little girl was born 
into each home. The rice man's daughter was 
named Mitsu (beauty) and the clog man's daugh- 
ter Masa (truth). Together they played in baby- 
hood ; together they enjoyed first Mitsu's Doll Fes- 
tival, then Masa's, year by year. Together, when 
in the fourth grade, they found the strange religion 
(Christian) Sunday-school and saw the stranger for- 
eign woman. Always they were together. The 
first not-together came when Masa begged Mitsu 
to be baptized with her and Mitsu said, " I don't 
understand." Together they graduated from the 
common school. 

Then came the day when all the kinsfolk of both 
families gathered from far and near to decide each 




'Sacred heirlooms' 



THE UNFINISHED STORY J35 

girl's future. Not together, oh, no ! But the de- 
cisions were the same. Every one had always 
known there was but one decision anyway. There 
is only one way for girls in Yamato : A short term 
in a sewing-school, a little learning to play the koto 
and to arrange flowers and serve tea according to 
the ways of the ancestors, then marriage to the 
richest man to be obtained. 

Mitsu, like thousands of other Japanese girls, ac- 
cepted her fate, with bowed head and a soft mur- 
mured "Thank you," accepted the unknown but 
proposed husband, accepted, because obedience is 
expected of Japanese girls, — and Mitsu's people 
feasted and were happy. Mitsu was happy too; 
was not her vain little heart feasted with praise ? 

But Masa ? A bomb out of a clear sky would 
probably have astonished her people less than she 
did that day ! When the folks had talked things 
over and finally said, since it was the custom, " All 
right, Masa ? " with drooping head, flushed face 
and profuse apologies for her disobedience, and 
deep assurance of her love for them all, she said, 
"You know I have become a Christian. I beg 
your consent that I may go to Tokyo to attend a 
Christian girls' school there. I want to become a 
Sunday-school teacher. I cannot marry yet. Please 
let me become a Christian teacher." The silence 
that followed almost broke her heart. She realized 
she was alone, a girl of sixteen against a whole 
clan, the only one in a long, long line of modest 
women who had not said, " Thank you." Almost 



J36 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

she feared they would turn her out of the family. 
That was bad enough, but when, after a long while, 
and after many persuasions and endeavours and 
threats to turn her from her purpose, they finally 
said, " Well, let her try it, the stubborn thing ; she 
will get enough of that Christian crowd. Chris- 
tians, ya ! is that what Christianity does, make girls 
disobedient ? We want no more of such a religion 
in this family ! " That was " the most unkindest 
cut of all." Finally her mother said, and she re- 
peated it at the parting, " You may go, but if you 
disgrace this family, don't you dare come to this 
town or this house again." 

In spite of all, Masa was happy too ! She ran 
over to tell her pastor of her victory. She did not 
tell him how hardly it had been won. She asked 
if the missionary would please, next time he came 
to their town, go over and explain about the school 
and about Bible women to her people. He did 
so, and' the fact that a scholarship was provided for 
her won them over wonderfully soon. 

Six months later the last walk was taken to- 
gether, the last sweet pledge of friendship made 
and Masa and Mitsu were parted, — by the quarrel 
of customs and religions, new and old in Japan. 

It was Mitsu's wedding procession which passed 
through the massive gray gates, into the beautiful 
centuries old mansion and the centuries old family 
in the heart of Osaka. It was very like the wed- 
ding procession of all the brides which had entered 
the old gates before it. The only new thing in it 



THE UNFINISHED STORY J37 

was a tiny seed way down deep in Mitsu's heart, 
and she did not know it. 

Masa, in her true heart strength, hope and faith, 
with her very few clothes and little keepsakes all 
in a little bamboo telescope, boarded the very 
modern third class train for Tokyo. " Free, free, 
the truth shall make you free." " Freely you've 
received, freely give," sang her happy heart all the 
long way, to the clickety clack of the car wheels. 
And beside the song was a prayer. 

But, oh, the four years in the school, even though 
a Christian school, were not all sunshine. There 
was so much that was new to learn ; so much old 
to unlearn ; so many new friends ; so much to do in 
the learning how to teach this new religion. So 
many times when, in spite of so much kindness, 
she felt so homesick and lonely. Yet would she 
go home ? She spurned the thought ! She had a 
life purpose. She must prove to the folks at home 
that Christ was real, that He meant something to 
her, that she wanted them to know Him too. The 
vacations were spent with an older Bible woman, 
learning " How." But one summer, fate (?) left 
her to herself. The missionary went away. Soon 
after that the pastor's wife was called, suddenly, 
to her father's home, and a little later the Bible 
woman's work was changed. Masa thought, for a 
short while, that the Lord Himself had forgotten 
her. What a test that month was ! But she stuck 
to the hard, lonely task. She made new friends. 
Every one praised her courage. The Sunday-school 



138 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

children could hardly wait for her to graduate, so 
eager were they to keep her always. The follow- 
ing spring she returned, so happy to begin to make 
her dream true. 

One day, during the month of her loneliness, 
Mitsu surprised her with a visit. She was dressed 
in the beautiful soft clinging crepes the Japanese 
love. Poor Masa could scarce afford a silk. It 
was their first meeting for three years. Masa was 
surprised at Mitsu's sad face. Mitsu said, " Masa, 
I have come to live with you now ; we will always 
be together again. My baby is dead ; he has gone 
back to the earth and I shall never see him again. 
He was such a dear baby boy. But Masa, that is 
not all. Oh ! my sleeves are wet with weeping, all 
the dreary daj^^s and nights. No one cares for me, 
Masa, except you. My husband always drinks 
sake, and now he has brought a beautiful geisha 
girl to be his mistress. He laughs and talks and 
drinks with her ; he gives her as beautiful clothes 
as mine. She has diamond rings also, and I am 
deserted in my husband's home. What shall I do ? 
I wrote to my mother. She came to see me and 
said, 'You ought to be ashamed to complain in 
such a luxurious home.' I begged my brother to 
take me in his house even as a servant. He replied, 
' There isn't rice enough to feed another mouth ; 
stay with your husband.' My own father died, 
you know, but I know he would say, ' A Japanese 
bride is dead to her parent's house ; you belong to 
your husband's family.' I accidentally heard you 



THE UNFINISHED STORY J39 

were here, Masa, and now I have come to live with 
you ; say we shall be together again forever. I 
cannot bear to share my husband with another 
woman." Ah ! here was rebellion against the old 
customs. The tiny seed has sprouted in Mitsu's 
longing for a pure home. Masa prayed hard in her 
heart for wisdom. She tried to tell Mitsu of the 
dear Saviour, who would bear her burdens, if only 
she would let Him. But wearily poor Mitsu said, 
" I don't understand." When the evening was al- 
most upon them, Masa said " Sayonara " to Mitsu 
at the big gray closed gates, as Mitsu slipped 
quietly through the tiny "earthquake gate" at 
their side. 

The next year Mitsu's mother came one day to 
Masa. " Tell me, is Mitsu with you ? She left her 
husband's four days ago. They wrote to ask if she 
was with me. ISTo one seemed to remember where 
she said she was going. I have not answered them 
yet. We must find her and get her back, the silly 
girl. You do encourage her, don't you, Masa, to 
be a true wife and obey her mother-in-law and her 
husband's family ? A separation would bring such 
disgrace upon our family. It was such a splendid 
marriage for Mitsu. She ought to be proud to stay 
there even with a dozen concubines. It is always 
expected a rich man will have more than one 
woman; it is the custom." " What do you fear," 
asked Masa, " suicide ? " " Perhaps," replied the 
mother. " Such a silly girl, we must find her." 
The same day came a letter to Masa from Mitsu. 



J40 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

" Come to me ; I am so sad. I must see you. I 
am in a little shop near the Fourth Bridge." Masa 
found the little shop. Among other things she 
said, " Do you love your husband, Mitsu ? " 
" With all my heart and life," she said. " Well," 
said Masa, "you will never win him away from 
the geisha by acting as you do, — ' you are killing 
the ox to cure his horns.' " Then she told of her 
mother's visit, her trouble. And again, in the 
evening, the two women parted at the big gates, 
and Mitsu slipped back through the little side gate 
and back to try again to live down her trouble, 
and back into the home of heart-breaking old cus- 
toms. 

When telling this to the missionary, Masa said, 
" Why is it that Japanese parents think only of the 
money their daughter is to marry? Why don't 
they consider the man? So few of my school- 
mates are happily married. In every case it has 
been m<5ney only. How can mothers act so ? It 
is like selling their daughters. Why is it so ? 
And why is it Mitsu can't understand about 
Jesus ? " 

Later Masa visited Mitsu in her beautiful but 
lonely home. She saw the geisha laughing with 
the young husband. She saw the servant maids 
whispering behind the screens, — they also may 
share the husband's caresses, if he chooses. She 
saw Mitsu serving her mother-in-law as a maid 
serves. She saw something more. She saw the 
father's concubines also. She learned the sons of 



THE UNFINISHED STORY J4J 

the concubines were adopted as half brothers of 
Mitsu's husband ; he was his own mother's only 
child and the family heir. The two daughters of 
the concubines had become geisha ; they had not 
been adopted. They do not belong to the family 
now, but to their keeper. Masa saw also, what 
the men seemed not to see, or seeing, cared not, 
that even the old mother, kind and polite to the 
older concubines, still was jealous of their claim 
upon her husband. Being a woman of the old cus- 
toms, she had never allowed herself to resist or to 
complain, or even to think but that it was all right, 
because it was the custom. Beneath all those soft 
beautiful cr§pe kimonos, oh ! what aching hearts ! 
In that home, beneath its sweet exterior, what 
hate ! It was like a sun-kissed, quiescent volcano ! 
And the men? They had no idea they were 
sinners ! They were kind to their women. Had 
they not the most beautiful clothes Osaka provided, 
all the jewelry, all the best of food, maids to help 
them, — what more could women want ? In fact 
the men thought nothing at all of the matter. Out 
in the business world of men they were honest, 
prosperous and respected. In fact they were 
among the best of unchristian men. No one ques- 
tioned about their home life. It was like the 
homes of perhaps most of the men they met, A 
man's home is his castle. That there could or 
should be any changes from the age old customs of 
the ancestors, in a man's home, has not concerned 
their busy minds. In fact, the old customs are so 



J42 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

comfortable to the oriental man, the majority of 
him desires no change. Having no religion, he is 
no sinner — in his own proud estimation, 

Masa rushed home to the missionary after that 
visit. She rushed up-stairs and, with her head on 
the mother's knee, and her heart full of tears, she 
cried, "I've just come from Mitsu's home. It is 
so beautiful, oh, so beautiful, outside, but (very 
solemnly) it's like hell in their hearts. Why are 
the homes of my country like that ? Why are they 
not Christian ? Why must such fine people, with 
such unlimited wealth, why must they live like 
cattle ? No love, no true happiness, no religion. 
That family has no Shinto shrine, no Buddhist 
altar. Even the ancestors are remembered, as a 
custom, not from the heart. Why does Mitsu San 
always say, ' I cannot understand,' when I tell her 
about Jesus ? Her very mind seems asleep ; yet her 
need is so great ! The home of the very poorest 
Christian jinrikisha man, with only one meal a 
day, is far to be preferred to that. It has love for 
a foundation, heart peace for a feast. Teacher, 
what shall we do for Mitsu ? I'm sure her hus- 
band thinks she is only grieving for her baby " 

and her voice trailed off into thoughts only. A 
long while she sat there on the floor, thinking. 
Then the missionary said, " First, let us pray. I 
think you have a little garden to cultivate there." 

The conflict of old customs and new desires will 
not soon end in that home. Will Mitsu win the 
love of her husband ? Will the husband learn 




n o 
-^ o 

CD C 



THE UNFINISHED STORY J43 

there is a God ? Will the time come when Mitsu 
shall say, " I understand " ? Will Christ be al- 
lowed to enter in ? Will the new conquer the old ? 
Talk about heroes on the mission fields, — to my 
mind, the greatest are the Bible women, especially 
those who come from unchristian homes. Outside 
the tiny Christian circle the earnest, consecrated 
Bible woman is a woman alone, often a woman in 
her early twenties ; alone with God, trying to 
break down a wall of heathen customs as old as 
Time itself. Never understood by unchristians, 
often misunderstood by the missionary, whose right 
hand she is. But happy — she is the happiest 
woman in the world, when a woman soul is saved 
because of her. 
You want the end of the story ? 

'■'■ The birds cannot sing it, 

Not one as he sits on the tree, 
But, swift years, oh, bring it, 
Such as we wish it to be." 



XV 
From Prison to Pulpit 

CHILDREN'S DAY, 1914, a crowd of Sun- 
day-school children, Christians and a few 
missionaries surrounded a week-old grave, 
on North Hill, Sendai, and reverently held a song 
and prayer service — having completely covered 
this grave, and one beside it, with beautiful flowers. 
The grave is that of Pastor Suto ; the one beside it, 
his mother ; the people who remembered them, his 
own flock, the Sendai church. 

Briefly his story is this : Some fourteen years 
ago a young man came to Sendai with a letter 
from the Akita missionary saying, " This man is 
not far from the kingdom ; do what you can for 
him." After a few weeks' intercourse and study 
the Sendai missionary had the joy of baptizing 
him. Whether the Akita missionary knew the 
young man's past, I never heard. 

One day the young man, Mr. Suto, said, " Have 
you ever walked out to the hills north of Sendai ? " 
" No," I answered, " but I would very much like 
to. I have heard there is a Christian cemetery 
there. I would like to see it, though I've also heard 
the Buddhists desecrate it so that it is impossible 
for the Christians to keep it up properly." 



FROM PRISON TO PULPIT J45 

(The Japanese cemeteries are either on the family 
lot, or on land belonging to the temples. Some 
temples refuse a grave to Christians, So as Chris- 
tian communities grow they try to avoid trouble by 
having a separate cemetery.) 

" Yes," he said, " that is true. My mother is 
buried there. It is a beautiful location. From the 
top of the hill you can see the grand old Pacific 
Ocean east, and the snow crowned mountains west. 
To the northeast are the famous Matsushina (Pine 
Islands) of Sendai Bay." 

" I did not know your mother was a Christian. 
I'm so glad she was. Who baptized her, when did 
she die — and, since you are from Akita, how does 
it happen she is here ? " I asked in a breath. 

"Brother Garst baptized her in Akita many 
years ago. My stepfather and half-brothers still 
live in Akita. They are not yet Christians, but 
my father is a friend to Christians. My mother 
came to Sendai to save me. She died two years 
ago. May I tell you about it ? 

" I, as all able-bodied youths must some time be, 
was drafted into the army, and sent to the Sendai 
Division. I was a wild fellow those days, and my 
mother couldn't bear to have me here alone, so she 
came too, to use every possible opportunity to help 
me grow better. 

" One day, while drunk, I struck a superior officer 
— I myself being only a sergeant. For this of- 
fense I was sentenced to twelve years in prison. 
Of course that broke my dear mother's heart — but 



H6 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

she didn't say so. She just came to see me as often 
as the guard would let her. She was hopeful for 
me. She talked kindly to me, she kept me reading 
good books, she encouraged me to study English. 
Years before she had given me a Bible — which I 
never had read. She found it and brought it to me 
now. Of course she prayed for me. At first I was 
sullen — but shortly I began to think. I was over- 
whelmed at my own meanness to her. I began to 
read her books, her Bible. I resolved to become a 
good man. Buddhist priests are the prison chap- 
lains, you know ; I heard them, with the rest. But 
they had no such sympathy, no such peace, no such 
a mother — as Christ had for me. There were twelve 
of us in our prison gang — five of us are Christians 
now — perhaps some of the others yet may be — I'm 
in touch with some of them. Doesn't it seem 
strange that it took prison life to bring me to my 
senses ? ' Out of the depths I cried unto the Lord, 
and He heard my prayer.' My dear mother was 
God's angel who stood by me then when all other 
friends deserted me. It haunts me like a night- 
mare, sometimes, to think what I might have be- 
come if mother had deserted me. She gave up 
home and comfort — she gave her life for me. If 
she could only speak to me now ! 

" I was in prison just two years when the death 
of the Empress Dowager opened all the prison 
doors and I walked out a free man." He paused, 
then went on sadly — " But there was no one to 
welcome me — the dear mother's heart had failed 



FROM PRISON TO PULPIT J47 

and the Lord had taken her to Himself just a few 
weeks before. My greatest regret is that she is not 
here to enjoy the change she so desired to see in 
me. Some day I shall go to her and tell her all 
about it. I thank God for my mother." 

" Yes, indeed," I echoed. " Thank God for such 
a mother — thank Him also for sending Brother 
Garst to teach her the "Way." 

About a week after this conversation the baby 
daughter of one of the Christians died. The father 
was too poor to buy a grave, and the Buddhists re- 
fused him one in his old family lot by the temple, 
so Mr. Suto said, "You may lay her beside my 
mother." In this way we first visited that mother's 
grave together, and close by its marker, a white, 
wooden cross, we planted some flowers for remem- 
brance of her sweet, sacrificial life. 

The son fulfilled his mother's great ambition for 
him ; he became, without exception, the most conse- 
crated man in the Christian church mission. He 
never forgot what the Lord had saved him from. 

His wife, one of the girls reared in Miss Kate Y. 
Johnson's home, was truly his better-half. No 
minister's wife could excel her. And there are 
three precious children. 

After leaving Drake Bible College he held pas- 
torates at Tsurugaoka, Akita, Yokote, and in 1911 
was given charge of the Sendai church. Sendai 
he loved. Here was his soldier life, his prison ex- 
perience, his baptism, his mother's grave. Here 
he found and married the wife of his own choice. 



X48 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

in a Christian way; here he began his ministry 
while preparing to enter the Bible College ; here 
he returned as pastor after he had helped make the 
Akita church self-supporting. In self-support he 
was our strongest man. Here his oldest child was 
born — and here he lay six months in intense agony 
in the hospital until the Lord called him away. 

During his long illness men met beside him who 
had been enemies, and were reconciled ; men un- 
decided made the great confession ; men grown 
cold in the Lord's service — considering this man — 
grew earnest. Here in the hospital, surrounded by 
as many friends as the doctors would admit, sing- 
ing "Jesus, Lover of my soul," he went away. 
" We shall meet, but we shall miss him " — but the 
good work he began — it shall go on forever and 
forever. The audiences of the Sendai church, since 
this experience, are the greatest ever. Pray the 
Lord of the Harvest for more workers like him ; 
pray tke Lord of Homes for more mothers like 
his — if any land in the world ever needed such lives 
Japan needs them now. Pray for his brave little 
wife, who now as a Bible woman begins her early 
widowhood. Pray that his children shall fulfill 
his ideal for them and become Christian workers. 
Shall we American Christians be less faithful than 
was that Japanese mother whose son "was in 
prison " ? 




Pastor Suto and his family 



XYI 

Teru-ko, or From Farm to Factory 

IT was war time between Japan and Rus- 
sia. Teru-ko (whose name in English means 
Brightness) was just nine years old. Besides 
her were Kiku (Chrysanthemum) and Ken (Sword) 
and Bo — who was Baby Brother. Father was a 
soldier, going to the war. He was also a peasant. 

Their home was one of the twenty yellow mud- 
walled, straw roofed cottages which made up their 
little village. The village itself was almost hidden 
by the tall evergreen, bamboo, pine and fir trees 
which reached around its north and west sides, as if 
they were the arms of the hills protecting it. The 
main road to Tokyo formed its one street. And 
across the road the little rice paddies stepped down 
and away across the beautiful rice plain to the shin- 
ing river — and the big, new railroad bridge. It 
was such a quiet, pretty village to look at — but its 
homes were dark and bare inside. 

There was great excitement in the town when the 
call came for Teru's father to hurry to the war ! 
The great battle of Port Arthur had been fought. 
Thousands of Japan's youngest, best and bravest 
men had been killed. The first reserves had already 
filled up ranks. Now came the call for the second 
reserves. Teru's father was of these. In Japan 

149 



J50 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

every man must serve in the army or navy if called 
upon. Tern's father never hesitated a minute after 
his call came. His heart was very heavy. He 
wondered how his little family could exist without 
him to work for it. Tern's mother laughed and 
joked with him while she brushed up his uniform 
and wrapped in a handkerchief a few little keep- 
sakes, and a " protection " charm, from the village 
shrine, for him to take. But when he did not reply 
to her joking she knew his thoughts and said 
bravely, " Shikata-ga-nai (no help). Our Emperor 
needs you. Our children are quite big ; we can 
manage all right — you will soon return — and the 
villagers are kind." 

The old men of the village came in to drink tea, 
and talk over war tales of old Samurai days. The 
young men came in to make merry with wine, and 
to envy him his strong body — which caused him to 
be chosen. The old women came to offer help in 
getting ready (though they knew there was noth- 
ing for them to do) and to offer advice and more 
" charms " against Eussian bullets. And so, with a 
final " Sayonara " to his bravely smiling family, and 
followed, rather escorted, by all the village to the 
railroad station — where they all shouted " Banzai, 
Banzai," Tern's father went off to the war . . . 
and he never returned. His regiment was rushed 
straight off to Manchuria and almost immediately 
into battle. "Word soon came to the little village 
that its hero, too, had joined his fellows in the spirit 
land. 



FROM FARM TO FACTORY i5t 

Teru's mother put his photograph in the family 
shrine, and the children were taught to put fresh 
flowers before it every day, and to light candles for 
it every night, and to worship it reverently — for to 
her the photograph held the soul of her husband. 
The last bit of money she had went to pay the vil- 
lage priest to say prayers for the repose of his soul 
— this brave father. 

The head man of the village was kind. He let 
them stay on in part of their little house. Of course 
he had to get another man to take father's place in 
the rice fields, but he let mother and Teru and even 
little Kiku work there also. It was weary work for 
the little girls, wading in the deep thick mud trans- 
planting the tiny rice shoots from the sprouting pud- 
dle to the long straight rows. "When this was done, 
there was plenty of weeding to do among the beans 
and other vegetables, as well as the rice. Then 
came silkworm time. Teru-ko and Kiku picked and 
carrried heavy back loads of mulberry leaves nearly 
a mile home, then washed them and chopped them 
fine, and fed them to the hungry, greedy little gray 
wrigglers. The worms had to be fed, and their 
trays changed every two hours night and day. The 
little worms do not sleep until the proper time, then 
they make up for lost time and do nothing but sleep 
several days. When they wake up it is to throw off 
their old skin nightgown and crawl out all dressed 
in a new kimono. 

In between all this work was the care of Baby 
Brother. After his morning meal he was left most 



J52 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

of the day with Ken as nurse and playmate. "Weary 
as their little legs and backs often were Teru and 
Kiku were such happy little girls they often sang 
their half forgotten school songs while they worked, 
and seldom went home from the fields without a 
pretty flower, or a little green hoptoad, or bright 
pebbles picked up from the road for Ken and 
precious Master Bo. 

During the second year after their father's death 
Baby Brother was so sick several times they thought 
him dying — and troubles seemed to pour down. Of 
course in such a tiny village there was no doctor. 
Even had there been it is doubtful if mother could 
have overcome her superstitions enough to call him — 
superstitions against any change from old customs. 
Charms were bought from the village priest, but 
when Baby grew worse, and the old priest was ap- 
pealed to again, he coldly said, " That proves you 
did not pay enough ; you cannot expect the god of 
that sickness to leave for such a small sum." And 
over and over again mother sold furniture and 
clothes for a newer and better charm, hoping the 
greedy god would be satisfied and stop tormenting 
her little son. (And the priest spent the precious 
money in wine feasts for himself and his cronies.) 
The old women of the village recommended different 
cures, from burning the tender fiesh over the pain 
with moxa, to feeding him dried snakes or bear's 
liver dried and mixed with bean paste. This for 
summer complaint ! One even recommended taking 
him to a sacred waterfall for a shower bath — she had 



FROM FARM TO FACTORY J53 

known an old man cured so. Strange as it may 
seem, after many anxious days Baby began to im- 
prove ; but mother had lost so many days' wages 
caring for him that even with the gifts of the kind 
hearted neighbours starvation stared them in the 
face. 

Then it was all the family relatives from far and 
near met to talk the matter over — as is the custom 
of the country. It was decided that a new husband 
must be found immediately for mother. And of 
course no new husband would want to support an- 
other man's four children. Ken must go to his 
father's people, to take his father's place as heir of 
that family — even though there was nothing but 
the name to inherit and perpetuate. Teru ? Well, 
there had been a man from Osaka through the 
village recently looking for girls for the factories. 
Teru could go there, couldn't she ? To be sure the 
man was looking for girls thirteen years old — but 
Teru was large and strong ; he would never know — 
nor care. "Just the thing," said everybody. And 
some one added, " The money the factory man will 
advance for her will buy her mother's new wedding 
furniture." It was decided that the village head 
man should be asked to take Kiku as a nurse girl 
for his wife's new baby. Of course she would only 
get her food, and perhaps one new kimono a year, 
but she ought to be thankful for that. As for 
Baby, since he was not strong mother had better 
keep him a while — until a new family began to 
come — then they would find a place for him. So 



J54 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

it was settled — as all such matters are settled — in 
Japan. Different persons were appointed to see 
that these different plans were carried out — even 
to the selecting of the new husband. Don't think 
the relatives were cruel — they were only following 
the thousands of years old customs of their country. 
TTiey knew tw other way. 

Then mother was informed of the "family" 
decisions, and that the new husband, a sturdy 
peasant from the next village — whose family 
would make liberal wedding gifts — would be ready 
for the wedding in a week — there was a lucky 
wedding day then. Mother, surprised and hurt, 
but true to her country, said nothing — until her 
informant was departing; then she said, "Shi- 
kata-ga-nai (no help). I will do as you say ; thank 
you all very much." 

She knew it would be useless to disobey the 
" family." Indeed it never entered her head that 
any woman would even think of doing other than 
the "family" suggested. (It is only the new 
woman in Japan who dares to think and act for 
herself.) 

But when the visitor had gone she called her 
little flock of children to her and with them all in 
her arms told them their fate. Together they went 
to the father's picture and worshipped it. Together 
they told his spirit to forgive them for being com- 
pelled to discontinue their filial worship — since they 
were leaving in obedience to the "family." Ken 
would remember him in his own father's home — 



FROM FARM TO FACTORY t55 

and together, because they were very human, they 
cried and clung to each other a long while. Sud- 
denly little Ken stood up straight and said, " I am 
to take my father's place ; I must be a man. 'No 
more tears for me. I am seven years old now ! " 
The poor mother apologized to him for her weak- 
ness and praised him for his brave heart. " That 
was spoken like a soldier ! " she said. 

Tern's departure came first. Excited because she 
was to ride on the wonderful cars, and go to the great 
city, Tern could not cry. She was happy because 
now no one would be troubled over the cost of her 
rice. 

Though it had been two years since she left 
school, all her former mates escorted her to the 
station. Mother came also, with Baby on her 
back, and Ken and Kiku wished they, too, could 
ride on the wonderful "kisha" with her. The 
bandana handkerchief in which her little belong- 
ings were tied up couldn't hold another thing, and 
even her kimono sleeves were bulging with all the 
little gifts every one seemed to bring, and her heart 
was very happy and proud indeed ! 

The train man blew his whistle, the engine an- 
swered, and with fifty Sayonoras ringing in her 
ears little Teru was off. O Teru, child, take a 
long, long look at the dear little home village 
tucked away among the trees ; you will need its 
memory in the days to come. 

But Teru was a child having her first ride on the 
cars. The village was soon forgotten. Everything 



t56 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

now was new and interesting. It seemed wonder- 
ful how the telegraph wires went up and down ; 
the trees went sliding past ; even the houses seemed 
all mixed up, the train ran on so fast ! 

After a while the " factory-man " said, " There 
will be some more girls for the same factory at the 
next station." Teru was glad because as the sun 
was setting, she began to be lonely. Soon the train 
stopped and five girls, about her own size, got on. 
They were country girls also and soon they were 
all chattering away like magpies. They had had 
their supper, so Teru turned her back and shyly 
and slyly ate the little lunch, a snowball of cold 
boiled rice and a few little pickles, which her mother 
had given her. It wasn't long before the sand man, 
or the sleep sprite or the rock-a-by of the train, 
or something hushed them all to sleep. 

Dear little girls, there was no one in all the 
world to love them now. The fatal " Shi-kata-ga- 
nai " had shut the door of home behind them. 

Arrived at Osaka, the next morning the little 
girls were taken by street car almost to the great 
factory. A short walk finished the journey. They 
were taken to the factory's dormitory. An old 
woman showed them where they would sleep, eat 
and study, where the bath was, and told them the 
simple rules of the place. After leaving their little 
bundles in their room, they were given lunch, then 
a young woman took them out for a glimpse of the 
great city. The endless streets full of busy people, 
the noisy tram cars, the countless rivers and canals, 



FROM FARM TO FACTORY J57 

full of all sorts of boats, the grand Buddhist funeral 
processions, moving swiftly as a gay parade — all 
these ordinary sights of the " Chicago " of Japan 
completely charmed the little country girls into un- 
speakable ecstasy. But as if ordinary sights were 
not enough, the young woman took them to the 
famous old Tenno Temple, whose great gray tower 
is one of the sights of Osaka. Then to the old 
castle grounds they went. When Teru-ko saw the 
soldiers marching through the great gate into the 
barracks, she thought of her own father and wiped 
away her silently falling tears with her long 
kimono sleeve. After the castle they went to 
"Runa Park," as the last and best treat. Here 
the moving picture shows, monkey and bird cages, 
and other more or less Western shows and wonders 
so completely turned the heads of the now tired 
little girls that they clung to the young lady's 
sleeves and promised to work hard and faithful 
forever and ever if sometimes on their two monthly 
rest days she would bring them here again ! 

They were so full of the excitement and newness 
of it all they did not notice, at supper that night, 
that the other girls, just about to go to the factory 
for their all night's work, looked at them silently, 
pityingly. 

Next morning at five o'clock they were called 
and told to prepare for breakfast immediately and 
work at six. Fresh and eager, they were soon 
dressed and ready, waiting in the long line of 
girls and women to march across the yard to the 



J58 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

factory when the signal sounded, and the night 
workers came marching back. 

The faint rumble of the machines grew louder as 
they approached the door. Once inside the factory 
Teru was almost frightened to death at the thunder- 
ous roar and fearful whirl of wheels and belts — and 
everj'^thing that goes to make up the machinery of 
a modern, up-to-date cotton thread factory. One's 
own voice could scarcely be heard. A woman, 
strangely silent, patiently showed little Teru how 
she must watch, constantly watch, the several rows 
of whirling spinnets which were now her charge ; 
showed her how she must very carefully catch 
the broken thread ends, twist them together and 
send them again on their whirling journey ; how 
she must replace the full bobbins with empty ones 
and watch them fill again ; how she must keep 
certain parts of the machine well oiled, and above 
all, how she must be very careful not to bend too 
close and catch her hair or her kimono sleeve or her 
tiny fingers in any of these hundreds of cruel, danc- 
ing, spinning, whirling things. The woman was very 
kind, though she was weary — with a weariness that 
never could be rested. For five years her daily toil 
had been from twelve to eighteen hours, according 
to the factory's rush of work. It would not be 
long now until she would have a long, long rest. 
She was so weary she had ceased to wonder how 
her old mother would live when she was gone. 

She remained longer than usual with Teru, her 
face was so sweet, her eyes so bright and confiding 



■'•m^:'" \ 




. 


V *. ' ' ■ ■■ 


1^ 

1 





FROM FARM TO FACTORY J59 

and she seemed to have brought a breath of the 
country with her. So long had the woman been 
there instructing new girls she had begun to regard 
them as part of the machinery, but Teru was so 
like she had been, as a child, that her own youth 
came back again ; she was very kind, lest some 
accident happen that important first day. 

How long that first day seemed to Teru-ko ! 
Just a little lunch at noon, then back to the whirl- 
ing things, and still watching them when the even- 
ing whistle blew at six o'clock. Then what a rush 
as the hundreds of day girls trooped back to the 
welcome dormitory while the hundreds of night 
girls took their places. 

After supper the girls who were not too tired 
romped a few minutes in the yard. Then the 
school bell rang, and they all hustled to the big 
schoolroom up-stairs. Teru was tired, and her 
eyes burned, and the whirr and rumble of the 
wheels seemed to be going around in her head, 
yet her feet almost flew up the stairs, so glad was 
she in the thought of going to school again ! 

An hour was given to reading, writing and 
simple arithmetic, and half an hour to sewing. 
Some of the girls went to sleep in the midst of it. 
When they were dismissed Teru found her bed- 
room — and her bed, a long row of comforts 
spread on the matted floor — must be shared by 
five other girls, all strange to her. Evidently the 
beds were left just as the night workers had 
crawled out of them, but Teru was too tired now 



J60 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

to think of that. The other girls crawled under 
the mosquito net and into the beds as they were, 
but Teru removed her outer kimono, as she had 
always done at home. Soon they were all so 
sound asleep nothing could arouse them till the 
great factory whistle called them again at five 
o'clock in the morning. 

Are you tired of this story ? I will hurry on. 

After three days in the factory Teru began to 
feel so tired she wanted a day's rest. Practically 
all her young life had been lived out-of-doors. She 
wanted just one day — one hour to run out in the 
sunshine. Her feet were so tired standing on the 
wooden floor all day. After three weeks she could 
scarcely smile, and when, during the second month, 
she had to take her turn on the night shift for a 
week at a time, she began to grow thin. Hqv first 
holiday came when she had worked fifteen days. 
She with some other new girls, — and an overseer to 
keep .them from running away — went again to that 
fairyland " Euna Park." But when the second 
holiday came at the end of the month, even the 
attractions of the only fairyland she had ever 
known were not enough to drag her from the 
dormitory. As for her wages — they would be 
given her when she left the factory for good, un- 
less her relatives sent for them before. It wasn't 
safe to trust a child with money. Though she 
could have a little for spending now and then, a 
strict account would be kept. It was only a pit- 
tance anyway — was she not receiving her food and 



FROM FARM TO FACTORY J6J 

schooling at the dormitory ? And since she did 
not care to go out on her holidays, she had very 
little use for money. In fact she did not care about 
it. It belonged to her relatives, most likely. She 
never had money of her own in the home village — 
why should she here ? 

When Teru had been in the factory a year some 
queer looking people came to see it. Teru had 
never seen any one who looked like them or dressed 
as they were dressed — but she knew they were for- 
eigners because they looked like something she 
dimly remembered. Oh, yes, it was like the mov- 
ing picture show — oh, so long ago. She slipped 
over to the girl next her and asked, " Are they for- 
eigners ? " " Yes," said the girl. " I suppose they 
are Jesus people ; they don't look like the other 
kind." " What are Jesus people ? Where is that 
country ? " asked Teru. " Oh," said the older girl, 
" I don't know their country, but it's Seiyo (west- 
ern). They teU beautiful stories about a man 
named Jesus who loves little children. I used to 
go to Sunday-school and hear them before I came 
here — not these foreigners, but some like them. 
Since I've been working here I think they are mis- 
taken — or else their Jesus doesn't love Japcmese 
children. Nobody cares for us ; look what a lot of 
us are here. I don't understand why we must keep 
these old machines going forever. I wonder if my 
Sunday-school still goes on ? " After a long pause 
she came over to Teru and said, " Teru-ko, if you 
ever get away from here try to find the Jesus peo- 



J62 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

pie, and if you find Jesus Himself ask Him if He 
loves Japanese children too — especially girlsP 
Another pause, then — " Teru-ko, let's go together 
our next holiday and see if we can find them ! " 

Just then the foreigners passed Tern's machine, 
and the woman smiled into Tern's wistful child 
face. She wished to speak to her, but the rules 
forbade ; and because the woman had been praying 
a way might be opened for the Gospel to reach 
these girls, she was anxious to keep the rules this 
first time, lest she be kept out altogether later. 

N^ext day little Teru was ill, too ill to get up. 
She was taken to the factory hospital. Soon her 
weary little body was tossing wildly with fever, 
the little brain dreaming of Kiku and Ken and 
Baby Brother, and of the beautiful hills where the 
village was. After a few days the doctor said, 
" tuberculosis." At that dread name, the scourge 
of Japan, came the consultation as to what to do 
with Uiis " case." A post-card was mailed to her 
relatives. They replied they could not come to get 
her now — but they would come later. They had 
not yet had the " family council " as to what to do 
with her — sick. 

Once, when she seemed a little better, Teru re- 
membered the foreigners, and what the older girl 
had said about Jesus who loved children. She 
"wished she knew if He loved Japanese girls. 
Would it be anything like mother had loved her ? 
Where was mother ? Would mother come ? Teru 
wanted to tell her she had been as good as she 







f^ 



FROM FARM TO FACTORY t6Z 

could, and kept on though she was tired — so 
mother would not be anxious about her rice." 

When nurse came in she asked her if she knew 
about the foreigner's Jesus. Nurse had never 
heard of it — but if it was anything about the for- 
eigners it wasn't good; the Buddhist priests all 
said so. Teru was afraid to ask the doctor. Even 
if she had his answer would probably have been 
like nurse's — if he noticed the question at all. (So 
soon has the present generation forgotten to whom 
it owes its knowledge of medicine and nursing.) 

Poor little Teru — she did not know that that 
very day the missionary woman with two of her 
Japanese Bible women was down-stairs waiting for 
permission to see the little sick girls ; waiting to 
give them some flowers from the Sunday-school's 
Children's Day ; waiting to give them some picture 
post-cards sent by the little American children ; 
waiting to tell them how very much Jesus loved 
them every one. She did not know that the " au- 
thorities," surprised at the strange request, and not 
understanding her motives — and perhaps wishing 
not to be bothered, refused the coveted permission. 

In a few more days Teru's little body was laid 
away. It is too sad — and it would make my story 
too long — to tell you how unchristian peoples care 
for their dead. Teru's people never came for her. 
They simply said, " All must die some time, shi-kata- 
ga-nai." Only her mother received the postal note 
which represented Teru's wages — the price of 
Teru's life — with silent tears falling in her sleeve. 



XVII 
The Lad from Little Lake 

THE first time I remember seeing the Lad 
from Little Lake was during a week's 
meeting at the Sendai church. The 
pastor was reading the names of those who had 
signed cards either confessing their faith, or re- 
questing further instruction in the Christian teach- 
ing. 

"Lad," read the pastor, and a short, plump, 
bright-eyed boy about sixteen years old promptly 
arose. He shot a quick, peculiarly Japanese glance 
at me out of the corner of his eye (I wondered why, 
since I did not know him), swallowed the lump of 
embarrassment in his throat and began his confes- 
sion. *' In my village home I had heard a little 
about Christianity — that little mostly bad. My vil- 
lage is intensely Buddhist. The priests and school- 
teachers are always berating Christianity. By this 
intense opposition my curiosity was aroused. Evi- 
dently Christianity was strong and threatening — 
else nothing would be said. I resolved to investigate 
for myself. If it was as bad as reported why did our 
gracious Emperor permit it in our land ? I rea- 
soned. 

" My ancestors for five generations had kept the 
164 



THE LAD FROM LITTLE LAKE i65 

hotel at the hot springs at Little Lake. Many peo- 
ple come and go always. Whenever a guest gave 
me the chance I asked about Christianity. Some 
said, ' It is good ' ; some knew nothing of it ; some 
declared it bad — but all said, 'It flourishes in 
Sendai — go there and learn.' 

" Usually the village boy's schooling ends with the 
grades. I decided to prepare for high school work 
in Sendai. There was some objection when I de- 
cided upon the Tohoku Gakuin — since it was a 
Christian school — but when my parents learned I 
could work out part of my expenses there, no more 
was said. 

" What was my joy to find Christian teachers, 
a student Y. M. C. A. presided over by one of 
the government school-teachers, a Sunday-school, 
churches — and missionaries — in Sendai. This Chris- 
tian church is near my boarding-house. I have been 
attending the Sunday night meetings regularly, 
and so far all the protracted meetings. I have 
learned enough of Christianity to know that I need 
it and want it. I believe Christ is my Saviour. I 
want to be a Christian. I have written my desires 
to my family. The answer just arrived is that if I 
become a Christian I must stop school and return 
home at once. Please help me — for I am deter- 
mined to become a Christian — with God's help." 

Monday night the Lad entered my Bible class for 
young men. The class lasted just a year — and the 
Lad remained most faithful of all. We talked with 
him about baptism. He was greatly troubled, — 



J66 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

wishing to obey Christ, yet wishing also for his 
parents' consent. We advised waiting a while, 
planning for the pastor to visit his people with the 
Lad very soon. 

Great preparations were being made for Christ- 
mas at church, his school, and in our home. How 
he enjoyed them ! But the day before Christmas 
his mother came for him and no amount of plead- 
ing from any one could win her consent for him to 
spend Christmas in Sendai. She seemed to fear 
something dreadful would happen were her son so 
intimate with Christians. Doubtless the village 
priests were at the bottom of it all. I couldn't help 
thinking of another Lad, nearly 2,000 years ago, who 
returned obediently to His village with His mother 
— when He had hoped to remain in " His Father's 
House." Obedience is a circuituous route, but it 
leads to victory in the end. 

After the New Year's holidays Little Lad had 
come b'ack to school with this message : " I am for- 
bidden to attend church any more. What shall I 
do ? Shall I attend and say nothing ? It is a great 
temptation." " Ko," I replied. " You must be 
honest with your people. A Christian must always 
be honest and true. You must be patient ; we will 
all pray and help you all we can. We will ask God 
to show us a way." 

This was a hard lesson for him for his own peo- 
ple say, " The end justifies the means." And he 
thought it justified disobedience in his case. We 
wrote to his parents asking permission for him to 



THE LAD FROM LITTLE LAKE J67 

attend church services. The reply was the reply of 
a multitude in Japan, " He can be a secret Christian 
if he wants to, but he must not attend Christian 
meetings." However there was no ban on the Bible 
class — possibly because it met in the missionary's 
home. His family proved their allegiance to an- 
other old proverb, " Always believe a man false un- 
til he is proved honest " — for one Sunday night his 
older brother attended church service, and was re- 
lieved to find Little Lad had been obedient to his 
family. 

In the midst of all this heart struggle came 
trouble in the church resulting in a change of pas- 
tors. " Another test of his faith," I thought. The 
Japanese are so loyal to the one whom they con- 
sider master — now, will Lad's loyalty prove true to 
Christ, or only to human friends ? He was true to 
Christ. The new pastor, to our delight, was inter- 
ested at once, and immediately wrote to Lad's peo- 
ple — but the reply was, " Lad, come home." The 
next Friday night, after Bible class, in which we 
had had special prayers for him — with the March 
moon shining brilliantly on the snow, the Lad left 
us, to walk the twenty miles alone to his home. He 
always walked it. Imagine our surprise the follow- 
ing Sunday to see him at church. At the close of 
service he publicly confessed his faith and, with the 
whole congregation following to witness the cere- 
mony, he was baptized in our beautiful Hirose 
Eiver at the foot of the bluff near the old castle 
walls in Sendai. His parents had given a reluctant 



J68 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

consent, and in his great joy he had walked the 
twenty miles that beautiful Lord's Day morning in 
order to " rise to newness of Life " on Easter Day. 
He intended walking back again after lunch, but 
Mr. Eobinson invited him to spend the night in his 
home. He was glad to do this. When he went 
home on Monday, we supposed it was the end of 
his life in Sendai. 

In a few days Mrs. Robinson received from Lad's 
parents grateful acknowledgment for her kind- 
ness in lodging their boy, and best of all, a letter 
from Lad himself saying he was surprised at his 
parents' kindness to him. He had expected persecu- 
tion instead. Soon he was in Sendai, again in 
school. Of a class of fifty-three he was the only 
one who passed with honours. We were in need 
of a Sunday-school secretary. Lad joyfully and 
carefully did his work here. One day he wanted a 
word with the boys. He said, " Boys, we want you 
to bring all your classmates to this Bible school. 
It is so important that you have good friends. In 
this church and school we learn to be good ; we 
must have the other boys here learning also." And 
again I received that quick, bright, Japanese look 
that I scarcely know how to interpret, but it seems 
to say, " I mean it, mother P 

Years have a way of passing in Japan, as else- 
where. For reasons unknown to us the end of 
the next school year was the end of Lad's school 
life in Sendai. He was sent to the northern island 
to work — we presumed in the coal mines. His 



THE LAD FROM LITTLE LAKE J69 

letters were vague about Ms life and work, but 
strong in assurances of his love and faith in Christ. 

Our furlough came — which because of our own 
family matters was prolonged two years. Then 
came our removal from Sendai — beloved capital 
of the north — City of Trees — Fairy Footstool — to 
the great, worldly, wicked, smoke-begrimed city of 
the southwest, Osaka. Here our own boys must 
attend school in Kobe, twenty miles away. 

One day an English boy from the Bonin Islands 
said, " There is a Japanese boy at our place who 
knows you. He is a fine fellow ; he says your 
mother is his spirit-mother. He lived in Sendai and 
his name is Lad." So one of our boys reported to 
me one evening. In a day or so after this the post- 
man handed me a letter marked " Bonin Islands, 
from Lad." 



" Dear Mother : 

" I have been very rude by my long silence. 
Many things have happened. And you have been 
away. I learned of your return through my friend 
in the Kobe school where also your sons attend. I 
wish very much to see you — but I cannot. There 
is much to tell. In Murovan I worked a while ; 
then I decided to study navigation, and I came on 
a schooner with eight companions. About two 
months we cruised, then by most terrible storm we 
were wrecked on a desert island and I alone was 
saved. How I prayed my God. Many days I was 
alone. At last God sent a boat to bring me to these 
islands. He brought me to this Christian home. 
Here I am working and studying in good health 



t70 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

every day. I shall devote my whole life to God. 
For this He saved me when others were lost. How 
I shall do this I do not know. I have been here 
nearly two years. Please pray for me." 

There were other personal messages. 

I answered immediately, asking him to come to 
Osaka when he could and let us help him plan his 
future. I thought I saw the making of a preacher. 
But he replied " he could never make public 
speeches — he must work by personal work." 

Several letters came and went — and the last one 
was written on board a ship in Tokyo Bay. He 
had found a work he liked in the merchant marine 
— " would I trust him always to do his duty to 
God and to men ? "Would I pray for him to have 
strength and courage for it? His faith would 
never fail — but his courage might, and sometimes 
he would be the only Christian on board. It would 
not be easy. My letters would help him to re- 
member." 

Will you also pray for this Lad from Little Lake 
who has chosen so rough a path in life — ^yet one in 
which, if he is true, the world will be blessed ? (It 
is hot easy to be a missionary.) 

'' Guard the sailor tossing on the deep blue sea." 

"Who knows? Some day you may be greeting 
Captain Lad of Japan's then great merchant ma- 
rine — and you will be glad to have known this 
little tale of this big heroic soul while it still was 
in the body of a boy. 



XVIII 

Grandma Kuroda's Adventure at the Fox 
Shrine 

IT was silkworm season in Shinano and 
Grandma Kuroda was very much troubled 
over the year's prospect. The frosts had been 
so late, and the spring rains so few, the mulberry 
leaves promised scant food for the thousands of little 
wrigglers she must raise — to weave gauzy threads 
for beautiful silk kimonos for Japanese ladies, pretty 
gowns for their American cousins, and — of course 
— rice and pickles for Grandma Kuroda and her 
little family. So, after thinking it over several 
days, Grandma Kuroda decided to go on a pilgrim- 
age to the Fox Shrine at Matsumura, and beg the 
aid of the god there to prosper her silkworm in- 
dustry. 

One evening, when the sliding shutters had all 
been closed, and the three children were asleep on 
the floor, she and Tomi, her son's wife, sat ripping 
up the wadded winter kimonos, in order to do the 
spring washing and sewing; she laid down her 
shears and said, "Tomi, I've decided to go away 
three days. It is said that any one who stays one 
night in the Inari Shrine at Matsumura will have 
great prosperity that year. You see how things 

171 



t72 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

are with us." Tomi, dumb with astonishment, 
and a sudden vague fear at the very mention of the 
Fox Shrine, dropped the kimono she was ripping 
and stared at her mother-in-law. " Now, Tomi," 
continued Grandma, " day after to-morrow is a 
lucky day ; it is Cock day. I shall start then. I 
think the silkworm eggs will be about ready to 
hatch when I return; the mulberry leaves were 
half-an-inch long to-day. You will have all the big 
straw trays sunned, and the sitting-room emptied 
of everything, so there will be no confusion when the 
hatching begins. The children can pick and wash 
and chop the leaves in case I am not back in time. 
And, Tomi, remember, when the worms begin to 
hatch, Baby Boy takes second place in the family." 
" It shall be as you say, honourable mother," re- 
plied Tomi, with a deep bow. Then after a silence 
— " But is it well for the honourable mother to 
take so long a pilgrimage alone? How about 
Kimi *Ko going with you?" Kimi Ko was the 
ten-year-old daughter. "Ko, Tomi, I shall go 
alone — nothing can bother an old woman like me. 
There are already pilgrims on the road. I shall 
not be lonely." 

On the day appointed Grandma Kuroda — dressed 
in a white pilgrim kimono, tucked up to her knees, 
showing the new white cotton-flannel petticoat be- 
neath ; her brown legs wrapped in white cloth ; on 
her feet straw sandals fastened by straw strings 
passing between her two first toes and around her 
ankles; a great, parasol-shaped, big bamboo hat 



GRANDMA KURODA'S ADVENTURE J73 

on her head — a protection from both sun and rain ; 
a few trifles necessary for the journey rolled in a 
white cloth and tied across her back, and her pil- 
grim staff in her hand — started on the long pilgrim- 
age which was to bring prosperity to the little 
family. 

She was escorted to the edge of her town by her 
fatherless grandchildren — Baby Boy gaily riding 
on Kimi Ko's back. (Granny's only son had " be- 
come a spirit " at Port Arthur a few days before 
the birth of Baby Boy.) 

" Sayonara Baba, Sayonara Baba," they cried in 
chorus. " Don't forget to bring us a nice ' omiage ' " 
(a present for staying at home). "Hai, Hai. It 
shall be as you wish, Sayonara," she said, and her 
little feet pattered along the great road leading 
towards the Miyogi Mountains. The famous Fox 
Shrine was beyond the mountains. 

It was unusually warm for the first of June, but 
there were other travellers on the road, and some- 
times there was companionship — but oftenest Uttle 
Granny walked alone, busy with her thoughts and 
plans — and glad of her little day of freedom from 
the day's petty round of home duties. Once in the 
heart of the mountains she wished for Kimi Ko — 
but hardly had the wish been formed when a bend 
in the road brought her to a little rest house, and 
the wish was forgotten. Beaching a village at 
sundown she stopped at a travellers' inn, and early 
next day plodded on again. (The story would be 
too long should I tell of all her adventures.) Be- 



J74 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

fore she reached Matsumura the road was thronged 
with people all going her way. The town was in 
holiday attire, the shops and gates gay with ban- 
ners, flags and gay lanterns, the boys racing every- 
where, beating the big drum of the shrine and sing- 
ing, " Yasho, yasho, yashai. We'll go where you 
tell us to. Honourable Fox God. Yasho, yasho, 
yashai." It was festival day. Grandma Kuroda 
took this as a good omen. Soon she passed through 
the first red torii (gateway), then the second — and, 
just as the sun was setting this second day, she 
made her offering to the two white fox images in 
the little shrine on the hill. Though tired out with 
her tramp, she waited until all the other worship- 
pers had gone, then sought a place to sleep within 

the shrine. 

****** 

It was many, many days before Grandma Kuroda 
remembered what happened next. 

Aftfer many days of searching by her own village 
men, she was found wandering in the mountains 
chattering to herself and barking like a fox. If 
any one approached she fled, or barked, so they 
all knew she had been bewitched and they were 
afraid — but they got her home at last. The village 
priest was called. For quite a sum of money and 
many prayers at the temple he was sure the fox 
within her could be exorcised. 

The silkworm season was over. The chill winds 
of autumn were blowing. The little children 
were often cold and hungry. Grandma's pil- 



GRANDMA KURODA'S ADVENTURE J 75 

grimage had not brought prosperity. ISTor had 
Tomi's daily prayers at the Buddhist temple re- 
stored Grandma's mind. Tomi was discouraged. 
She was losing faith in the power of the priest even 
as she had lost faith in the Fox God's power to 
bring good luck. 

Granny had now been quietly sleeping a night 
and a day — a strange sleep. Tomi was more 
troubled than ever. She was even beginning to 
listen to a sinister thought which suggested that 
she had better cause them all to join her husband 
in the spirit land than to struggle on against such 
odds. 

Just now she was sitting beside Granny on the 
floor, nursing Baby Boy, when suddenly Granny 
opened her eyes and smiled. " Well, Tomi," she 
said, " I've had such strange dreams ! Listen — I 
dreamed I went to the Fox Shrine at Matsumura. 
The white fox images were beautiful. The maiden 
who guarded them was beautiful. She saw I was 
weary, she gave me tea and rice, then she spread 
me a comfort on the floor within the shrine. We 
talked pleasantly till midnight ; then just as I crept 
under the comfort I had a sudden chill and trem- 
bled so I thought I must die. I looked up to ask 
her to help me when — oh, Tomi," — in a whisper 
— " she had changed to a horrible demon ready to 
spring upon me. I screamed and ran away as fast 
as I could. Then when I was safe in the woods I 
laughed to think how an old woman like me outran 
her. Then I woke up. Queer dream, wasn't it ? " 



t76 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

"Honourable mother," said Tomi, weeping for 
joy, " I'm so glad it was only a dream. I'm so glad 
you are awake." 

"Yes," said Grandma Kuroda, "I had been 
thinking seriously of a pilgrimage to that very 
shrine, Tomi, but I won't make it now ; the merci- 
ful Kwannon has shown me by this dream it would 
not be wise." 

" Yes," said Tomi, " the honourable mother has 
been very ill — since the first mulberry leaves came 
out until now the seven grasses of autumn are with- 
ering. But Kwannon is kind and now you are well. 
We are all happy again." 

l!^ext day Tomi made a great thank offering at 
the Buddhist temple — though she pawned their 
last change of clothing to do it — and promising 
never to doubt again, sealed her promise by cut- 
ting off all her abundant black hair. This also she 
gave to the temple. 

It was many, many months after this that 
Grandma Kuroda learned from the other old 
women of the village the manner of her return 
from her pilgrimage to the Fox Shrine. The only 
prosperity that came of it all was reaped in thank 
offerings by the priest of the Kwannon temple. 



XIX 
One Woman's Work 

SHE is a Bible woman. "When she was six- 
teen she heard a schoohnate singing Chris- 
tian songs and wished to learn them. The 
schoolmate promptly invited her to Sunday-school. 
She went. Hesitating outside the door, because 
her schoolmate was absent that day, a Christian 
woman welcomed her so cordially she immediately 
felt at home. 

She finished the common school, had six months 
in a sewing school, and a year in obstetrical nurs- 
ing when she decided to become a Bible woman. 

Her home was strict Buddhist, her father being 
a temple treasurer and her mother steeped in deep- 
est Buddhist superstition. Like all the common 
people she knew nothing of its higher teachings. 
ITaturally both parents bitterly opposed the daugh- 
ter preparing for Christian work. Being the baby 
of the family it was expected she would be a bit 
willful. By adding to permissible Japanese will- 
fulness an earnest Christian purpose, she won a con- 
sent equal to, " Well, if you are determined to do 
it, we'll put the best face on it we can." To-day 
they are proud of her, 

177 



J78 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

Three years ago she began her work in Osaka, 
her native city. She gathered the neighbourhood 
children in her home for a Sunday-school immedi- 
ately after dinner. She taught a Sunday-school 
class in the church (nearly two miles away) Sun- 
day mornings. At half-past three she taught a 
third class in the Kizukawa mission — as far west 
of her home as the church is east. "Wednesdays 
she taught alone a village Sunday-school a mile 
south of the city. In between this teaching of 
little children — with whom she is very popular, 
and to whom she gives straight Bible teaching — 
were various adult meetings and classes in her care. 

In the second year of her teaching she suffered a 
great mental shock and asked if she might be sent 
to work outside of this great city for a time. She 
was sent to the nearest outstation, where a little 
band of Christians met for worship in the pastor's 
house.^ Besides work here she taught Sunday- 
school in three near-by towns. This made long 
country walks necessary. It was just the change 
she needed for mind, heart and body. 

These little Sunday-schools meet any week-day 
convenient for the one teacher — since distance and 
dearth of workers made simultaneous Sunday work 
impossible. The method is this. Some one in the 
town is found willing to rent a room for an after- 
noon a week. The children are called in off the 
street as they go home from school — for you must 
know all the public schools in Japan are in the care 
of the nation's Department of Education, which is 




Fusa Iwama, "The Bible Woman" 



ONE WOMAN'S "WORK J79 

hostile to Christianity, therefore no schoolhouse 
meetings as in the United States of America. The 
children sit close together, their feet doubled back 
under them in the purely Japanese way, on the 
soft matted floor. Hymns written on large sheets 
of paper make a " song roll " which is hung where 
all can see it. Beside it hangs a Sunday-school 
Lesson Picture EoU (" waste material " from 
America). Sometimes she has a paper blackboard. 
Such is her material equipment. So she begins her 
work, this one young Bible woman — her lonely 
work of winning a whole village to Christ through 
its children. 

These children never heard a hymn before — 
nothing like it. As she sings it to them the first 
time many giggle. She explains the words to 
them — a lesson in itself. In her own inimitable 
way she wins them to an heroic endeavour to re- 
produce her musical sounds. Before that first meet- 
ing is over they are singing as if the salvation of 
the whole country depended on them. (Perhaps it 
does.) 

Then comes the story about the picture. All 
children love stories. Japanese children are in- 
satiable. They will sit in that doubled under, 
cramped position an hour, scarcely moving a 
muscle, scarcely winking an eye, listening to a 
good story teller. (The missionary finds it hard 
to sit that way five minutes.) 

The Japanese children love their Sunday-school. 
After they have experienced one Christmas there 



^^ J80 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

is no holiday in the whole calendar so dear to 
them. 
I As she has opportunity the Bible woman meets 

the mothers and sisters of the young children and 
teaches them also the 'New Way. In some places 
meetings for women follow the children's meetings. 
If the pastors and missionary men have time, 
her work is supplemented by public evangelistic 
meetings. But often, for lack of men, these meet- 
ings are slow to follow. 

During the third summer of this one Bible 

woman's experience the little group of Christians 

which was the centre of this group of towns — 

through sin — lost its pastor. As is usual in such 

cases the people — only a dozen of them — " took 

sides " and the preaching place had to be closed — 

I temporarily. Not having a meeting place the in- 

" nocent Sunday-school children were cheated out 

of their rights. (]S^o one sins to himself alone.) 

The Bible woman moved back to her father's 

jl house in the city. But every week she goes aloTie 

f to her little group of Sunday-schools — and also 

teaches one of her former city classes. " Where 

was the missionary all this time ? " It would take 

another paragraph to tell you — this is the story 

of the Bible woman. It so happened that this 

Bible woman was alone in her work from July 

to December. Workers are so scarce it couldn't be 

helped. 

Christmas came. At the missionary's home the 
"Waste Material" basket was opened. This one 



ONE WOMAN'S WORK J8I 

Bible woman must have material for nearly three 
hundred children whose names she knows. Here 
are beautiful scrap-books, pictures, post-cards, etc., 
from American Sunday-schools. How she gloats 
over them ! (The missionary had kept them as a 
surprise.) With her class hooks in hand she selects 
prizes for attendance and memory work, prizes for 
attendance only and cards for the tiny ones. Two 
other workers and a kindergarten were supplied 
from this one basket as well as numerous gifts sent 
to isolated Christians and their children. Praise 
God for kind hearts in Christian lands. Praise Him 
for waiting hearts in heathen lands. 

A missionary man was able to attend these out- 
station Christmases. He told the Christmas story. 
The missionary mother whose happy duty it was 
to have gone was too ill to leave her home. He 
returned to tell her his surprise in " One Woman's 
Work." 

" We got to town, hung up our decorations 

and those the children brought, had lunch and 
then the crowd came. Those children had a 
beautiful program of Bible recitations, Christian 
'pieces,' short Christian essays with Christmas 
hymns in chorus and by classes. The children 
brought a special collection for the famine in 
]S"orth Japan. We were there two hours, then 
the children went home and seven women re- 
mained. We preached the Gospel to them. They 
are the Women's Bible Class. There were over 
sixty youngsters. 



J82 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

" The second town's Christmas was the same as 
this except that both men and women remained 
for the adults' gospel service. Town number 
three had seventy-five children who received gifts. 

" ' What shall we do with town number four ? ' 
asked the Bible woman. ' It was no fault of the 
children's their school was closed. Must they be 
cheated out of Chrismas also ? ' 

" ' Let's go home and consult " Waste Material " 
about it,' said the man. ' Can you find the 
children after all these months?' 'I will find 
the children,' she said. ' Where shall we meet ? ' 
' If there is not a home in this town open to the 
children for Christmas we will rent a room in the 
hotel.' The missionary came home, the Bible 
woman went to town number four. She called 
at the homes of the former church members and 
told them ' Christmas would be there to-morrow.' 
But the hotel room had to be rented. Three young 
men dffered to help and gave some money. The 
former Christians, except these three, were in- 
different. The morning of December 2Tth the 
Sunday-school children were still in school (public 
school). The Bible woman had not seen them yet. 
She went to a few homes and said to the mothers, 
' Christmas will be in the hotel from 6 P. M. 
Please tell the children to come early so we can 
get up a program.' When school was out at 
three o'clock forty children, all former pupils, 
were there ready and eager to do their part. A 
program was made out and practiced. The chil- 



ONE WOMAN'S WORK J83 

dren went home for supper. The missionary man 
had brought the ' Waste Material ' — and after six 
o'clock the children had their Christmas — about 
sixty of them, (More than any Christmas in that 
town before.) Since Christmas that group of three 
young men has become a Bible class of seven which 
the missionary 'tnan teaches every Friday night. 
So is the church being built again. 

" How she ever did it is beyond me," said the 
missionary man. " She is wonderful with the 
children. The order everywhere was perfect. She 
is in earnest. The children love her. Wonderful 
work — and besides all this ' country ' work she 
drilled her class at the city mission ! " — " I told 
you so," said the missionary woman. 

Christmas is over — it is coming again. 

The last of January the missionary woman was 
strong enough to go to one of the towns with this 
Bible woman. Children were at the railroad station 
waiting to welcome " Teacher." There were sixty- 
six that day. " A woman that feareth the Lord, 
she shall be praised, and let her own works praise 
her in the gates." 

What is a Bible woman ? This is the story of 
part of the work of one of them. There are less 
than a dozen such women in our Christian church in 
Japan. 

It is to train women for service like this that 
scholarships are asked from American Christians. 
It is not that their parents cannot support them — it 
is because they are heathen and will not. It is be- 



J84 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

cause they are so enthralled by their old religions 
and superstitions they try in every way known to 
the devil to resist the Christ. 

In twenty years of service in Japan I have 
worked intimately with ten such Bible women. 
All, except the three youngest ones, are married 
now. Two are ministers' wives. Only two came 
from Christian homes but several homes are now 
Christian. In every case they were to me precious 
younger sisters. They have taught me their lan- 
guage and customs, and the capabilities of the Jap- 
anese consecrated woman. Together we have 
translated English stories for Japanese children ; 
together we have kept the Sunday-schools ; together 
we have taught the young girls and their mothers 
the Christian way ; together we have visited the 
sick and helped the poor ; together we have pre- 
pared the dead for the coffin, and have transformed 
the plain pine box into the semblance of a Christian 
coffin ; together we have planned, worked, prayed 
and wept ; together we have made tiny kimonos 
for new-born babes ; together we have sometimes 
played ; together we have walked many miles, and 
weary, we have slept under the same covers, on the 
floor, and together have thanked God for each 
other. 

The longer I live in this beautiful land and the 
more I know of this polite, perverse people, the 
greater is my love and the profounder my respect 
for its noblest character, the Christian Bible woman. 

Often she is ill, often weary, often discouraged 



ONE WOMAN'S WORK J85 

over the hardness of her people against her religion 
— always she is hampered by lack of equipment 
and working funds. Yet always she is a woman of 
undaunted faith and prevailing prayer. 

By her lonely work with the children she is un- 
dermining the vile customs, the selfish religions, 
and the materialistic ideals of her country. She is 
building in the coming generation of men and 
women Christlike hearts of flesh to replace the 
stony hearts of their fathers. 

Pray for her. More than one of these women 
have said to me, " My true friends, my real sisters 
and brothers are the Christians only. My blood 
kinsfolk do not understand a Christian's heart at all. 
My real mother is my missionary school-teacher ; my 
elder sister is the missionary with whom I work." 
This is Christ's kinship. " They that do the will of 
My Father in heaven " — they are the true kindred 
— sometimes the missionary finds it his only kindred 
also. What is all the glory of America compared 
to kinship such as this ? 



XX 

A Modern Cornelius 

FOE hundreds of years the men of the O'Uchi 
family had been knights, and teachers of 
literature and of military tactics to the 
Da-te lords of Sendai. They knew not the value of 
money — it was a thing seldom mentioned in the 
pre-Meiji eras. They knew no way of earning it. 
They, also, had been guarded by faithful Samurai ; 
the cheerful peasants had furnished them sufficient 
rice ; they had lived in a palace near the castle in 
Sendai ; their women had always been good and 
capable ; they had never known hardship — indeed, 
they were prosperous, comfortable, useful, respected, 
content. Then came the great change of '68. 

Many fine old gentlemen, worthy of all respect, 
were left to end their days in poverty. The house 
of O'Uchi, though impoverished, still had a bit of 
land in JS'ishikori village, some thirty miles from 
Sendai. The hero of this tale, Shogo O'Uchi, was 
about thirty-five years old at this time. 

After things in the capital had somewhat settled 
down, officials were appointed for different dis- 
tricts, in different capacities, according to Western 
models. Shogo O'Uchi, having qualified to suc- 

186 



A MODERN CORNELIUS J87 

ceed his father under the old regime, was appointed 
chief of the educational forces in his native dis- 
trict. 

While engaged in this work — of getting schools 
started under the new methods — he also made a 
special study of Chinese hieroglyphic writing, 
especially the writing of poems and proverbs, in 
which all Orientals so delight. He made for him- 
self quite a local reputation as such a writer. 

After many years of efficient, faithful service as 
District Superintendent of Education he was suc- 
ceeded by a younger and more modern man. Then 
his Chinese writing alone stood between him and 
poverty. Sometimes he received a large order from 
a hotel for painted screens and scrolls — that meant 
plenty of rice. Other times weeks passed with no 
orders, then " the bottom almost dropped out of the 
rice bucket." So, struggling, old age kept relent- 
lessly creeping on. 

In his younger days as O'Uchi travelled here 
and there he heard something of Christianity — not 
much, but enough to convince him that it was the 
thing his country needed Tnost So in his own 
village, himself not yet a Christian, with his own 
meagre savings, he built a little house and dedicated 
it a " Christian Church." This was a remarkable 
thing in Japan ! Our faithful evangelist, Kawa- 
mura, heard of it and walked twenty miles to visit 
and instruct, if necessary, such a zealous man, such 
a Cornelius ! He thought him not quite ready for 
baptism, and left, promising to visit him as often 



J88 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

as possible, and to instruct his little band of self- 
styled Christians. 

In olden times to relieve the monotony of their 
endless feudal wars the lords practiced a stately 
form of tea ceremony. It was the custom of " gen- 
tlemen " to invite their friends to " Tea." To per- 
form properly this Cha-no-yu requires about four 
hours (though I have seen modern schoolgirls " go 
through " it in twenty minutes) and O'Uchi was an 
expert in the proper performance of Cha-no-yn. 

One time Kawamura, Dr. De Forest, and our 
missionary were his guests together ; with tales of 
old times and Cha-no-yu were they entertained by 
O'Uchi. Kawamura's father was also a Da-te re- 
tainer, and Dr. De Forest had come to Japan when 
the "Restoration" was in its infancy. Then 
O'Uchi began to show them his written scrolls, 
and asking each for his favourite Bible verse, 
painted quickly for each a scroll motto. This was 
the greatest compliment he could show them. 

He was in dead earnest about his Christianity. 
And while writing these scrolls a sudden inspiration 
came to him. Laying down his brush, he looked 
at his three guests with a transfigured face. "I 
will make scrolls for the Christians to sell and help 
them build churches. I have no money to give, 
but I can do this." He began to work immediately, 
and soon a church struggling to get building funds 
received this word : " I have painted one hundred 
scrolls which you can sell to help build your 
church." Nearly all the Protestant church build- 




Grace Madden and her little friend, Emi Sawaki 



A MODERN CORNELIUS J89 

ings of Northern Japan have been more or less 
helped this way by Shogo O'Uchi in his old age. 
He was very happy in this labour of love. The 
churches receiving his gift usually made a financial 
acknowledgment of it, and so he kept the ball roll- 
ing. What a grand work it is, too. Long after 
this old Ketainer has gone to be with his True 
Lord these Bible verses, hanging on the walls of 
churches, hotels and homes, will " preach the Word " 
for him. 

But this is not the end of my story. 

The Congregationalists had a small church in a 
town an afternoon's walk from Nishikori, and when 
they heard of O'Uchi and his earnest friends, made 
it one of their outstations, and sprinkled O'Uchi, 
his wife, and the others. His church was then listed 
as one of the Independent churches of Japan. The 
good old man didn't know Christ's family was 
divided into many parts — to its own shame — so 
Kawamura was as welcome a pastor to him as any 
one. As long as he lived, O'Uchi himself was the 
" priest " of his little flock. 

Some years ago he became quite interested in 
Sawaki, then a student preacher of the Christian 
church in Sanuma, five miles from Nishikori. A 
deep friendship resulted. They became as father 
and son. When Sawaki returned to Tokyo to 
finish his college course his place was filled by one 
of our men just graduated from Drake Bible College. 
O'Uchi loved this man also. From these three, 
Kawamura, Sawaki and Mitsui, whom he especially 



J90 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

loved, he " learned the way of the Lord more per- 
fectly " and by the latter was immersed in the 
Sanuma Eiver in August, 1907. Previous to this, 
however, the Congregationalists had withdrawn 
their regular workers from all that country. "With 
O'Uchi several others were baptized, and now the 
place became one of our outstations — as it is to this 
day. Though O'Uchi has been " resting from his 
earth labours " these five years, so well were the 
foundations laid that the Christians of the village 
have the land all ready for a new and adequate 
church building — but as yet have not funds enough 
with which to build. "With enthusiasm they keep up 
the Sunday-school and their regular meetings. One 
of their young men is now preaching the Gospel in 
one of our city churches. 

Beyond the beautiful range of mountains west of 
Sendai is a large silk- weaving and fruit-growing 
district. The people here are " well to do." Some- 
way," Yonezawa (Kice-swamp), the metropolis of 
this district, had been a Macedonian call to O'Uchi 
for many years. He longed with a great desire for 
us to open a work there. Finally, after Sawaki 
graduated, it was decided that he could go with 
O'Uchi and see if a church could be planted in that 
beautiful, thriving, materialistic Samurai city. 
They went in October. Through O'Uchi's influ- 
ence a fine, big house was rented and fitted up as a 
mission preaching place. Hand-bills were printed 
announcing a Christian meeting. These O'Uchi 
himself mostly distributed, leaving a personal ap- 



A MODERN CORNELIUS t9t 

peal with each. When all was ready Mitsui also 
came and spent three nights with them, preaching 
and doing personal work. 

The immediate results of the meeting are a large 
Sunday-school, a Young Men's Bible Class, and nine 
baptisms in less than six weeks with the prospect 
of more in a short time. ITo other work in the 
north has had so splendid a beginning. 

O'Uchi was very frugal, scarcely eating sufficient 
rice for fear he would not have something to give 
the Lord. He still wrote scrolls and sold them to 
pay his own expenses, though he was over seventy- 
six years old. Sawaki, the young pastor, begged us 
to furnish O'Uchi's rice so that all his time could be 
given to evangelistic work. He said, " O'Uchi is 
like a father to me. He is the real founder of the 
Yonezawa church. He is working splendidly. His 
last years are full of God's glory." 

There is not much demand for scrolls now — it is 
too soon after the great famine, so the bottom of 
the rice bucket is often visible, and besides, the old 
man much prefers going from house to house with 
the precious gospel invitation. 

But think, you Americans — in a land from which 
Romance long since departed — what changes this 
life has seen ! In youth rich, honoured, pagan ; — 
in age poor, humble. Christian. In youth the proud 
knight of the Lord of Sendai, the King of Oshu — 
in age the happier Retainer of the Lord of Heaven 
and Earth — the King of Kings ! 

An appeal was made for some one to supply 



192 LAND OF THE CHERRY BLOSSOM 

O'TJchi's rice, and the Christian Endeavour Society 
at Lynnville, Illinois, took him as a living link, 
while the society at Bellaire, Ohio, made one con- 
tribution. This help was not long needed, for 
" God's good old man " went away in August, 1909, 
at the age of seventy-nine. As late as 1913 I heard 
his aged wife and their one daughter were still 
actively working in the Mshikori Sunday-school, 
begun by O'Uchi so long ago. 



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